The diary of almost everything

Adulthood, as it turns out, is mostly just the world saying: You’re on your own now, good luck playing this game until you die.
Which, to me, feels a lot like an old board game. Goose Game, maybe. (Is that international, or just Dutch?) Everyone’s moving at different speeds. Some land on the “win a turn” square. Others slip into the swamp. And sometimes, you roll the dice and realize the game isn’t ending anytime soon.

Cheerful, right?

Here’s the thing: I have a real job with actual responsibilities. I run a school. People take me seriously. And yet, I often sit in meetings thinking: Wow, you’re all trusting me? Half the time, I still feel like the intern who should be taking notes, not making decisions.

But then adulthood shows itself in the strangest ways. Like the joy of buying a really good frying pan. Or the sudden thrill of clean sheets. Or realizing that yes, I’m the kind of person who actually enjoys cooking now. As a kid, food was about eating and sneaking dessert.
These days, I love recipes, trying new things, and the quiet satisfaction of making a meal from scratch.
Teenage me would roll her eyes. Current me is, honestly, impressed.

I’ve also realized adulthood means enjoying seasons differently. As a kid, autumn was the end of summer fun.
Now it’s blankets, candles, soup, and the sweet relief of not having to sweat in places you don’t want to know about.
That’s growth, right?

And then there’s the generational gap. Kids at school throw around names of influencers I’ve never heard of, and for a split second I think, That’s dumb. And then I remember, my generation worshipped ‘flippo’s’ and boybands in matching outfits, so who am I to judge? Adults back then probably thought we were ridiculous, too.

The weirdest part? When I was little, adults seemed prehistoric. Wise. Untouchable. Now I’m their age, and I can confirm: we’re all just winging it. Adults don’t know everything. We just Google faster and own better shoes (right?!).

Of course, adulthood also means holy-crap-I’m-in-charge moments. Signing papers. Fixing things. Pretending I know what an good energy tariff is. But it also means discipline, trying to set routines like meal planning or laying out clothes the night before. (Do I succeed? Absolutely not. But I try.)

And maybe that’s the lesson: adulthood isn’t about getting it right. It’s about knowing it’s yours to figure out. With or without clean laundry.

Because at the end of the day, you’ve got people who love you, cats who remind you to feed them, and just enough perspective to know: you’re doing fine.

The goose game continues.

-Sophie Quinn