Remember those days when you were young and you thought your parents were these all-powerful beings. They could do no wrong and were always there to save you when things went bad. If someone was picking on you at school or you couldn’t figure out a homework assignment, your parents were always there to help out.
Then you hit your mid-twenties and suddenly they expect you to take care of yourself!
How the hell did that happen? When did my problems become my problems and not ours? I know. I’m a spoiled brat. But I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that I have sole responsibility for myself. WHO THOUGHT THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA???
Last night, I was sitting at the Irish Bank in San Francisco’s Financial District. I had done a couple freelance assignments and was able to afford two whole drinks: one at Rickhouse on Kearny and then a Guinness at Irish Bank. Crazy, right?
The Giants game was playing—it was a wildcard game against the Mets—and so there was quite a bit riding on it. Maybe because it was another even year or maybe just because #SPORTS, but the Giants ended up winning the game!
That’s when I got the text that really hit home the fact that I was on my own.
Dad: The Giants just won. You going to any playoff games?
Me: No, dad. I’m poor… haha
Dad: LOL hope you get a job soon
LOL?? LOL???? LOL????? Dad, I’m fucking floundering in life over here and all you have to say is LOL?????? Not even an “I believe in you” follow up. Simply LOL and hope you figure your shit out soon.
WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT?
This is my life now. Search for a new place of employment while keeping my father laughing in the meantime…
Wish me luck?