Finally! My adolescent angst gave way to adult unease

I have often been called a late bloomer. Although I have always been unhappy with this label, everyone who called me was right: I refuse to sign up for direct deposit, about 60% of my exes have told me that watching me skateboard in the parking lot on 9/11 and considering that a date was the main reason for my breakup, and the eternal angst I feel against this unfair world has been my default mood since I was 12 years old.

But all that changed a few days ago when I was waiting in line to buy stamps at the post office and mail my water bill. In that moment, the unbridled rage toward all authority dissipated and was replaced by a warm blanket of adulthood unease.

Let's talk about growth! Seriously, it's such a burden for me to not wake up every day and curse my parents for bringing me into this world just to experience the collapse of Western civilization. For example, today I spent 20 minutes comparing laundry detergents while feeling like I should have followed my passion for abstract art.

I attribute this delay in part to my genetic predisposition to being angry at the world over losing baby teeth until my freshman year of college. Or maybe it's the fact that I didn't have kids, which I've heard kills teen angst very quickly. After all, there aren't many opportunities to listen to My Chemical Romance when Cocomelon takes over your Spotify algorithm.

It's a strange feeling to look in the mirror and wonder if it's the same person who stole twelve FYE CDs and pushed the security guard into the fountain, especially when I realized that all those bands were now going on tour for FYE's 20th anniversary. these same albums. And yes, I will pay $70 plus fees for the balcony seats. My poor knees!

It's very different from a midlife crisis because it's permanent. From now on, I just have to come back to Zoom until I retire (or die at my desk), buy a pill box or two, and don't recognize 85 % of today's music. And this, while the existential threat of the Third World War hangs over us like a proverbial sword of Damocles, no less! If all of this doesn't spark a feeling of endless dread, then I really need to grow up.

Well, better late than never. At least hating cops is an all-ages thing.