Over the years I’ve watched the tellers at my local bank go from being grown-ups, to peers, to juniors. The other day I was served by a young man straight out of college.
I think the only thing remotely adult-like (read: responsible) about me is that I own a car. As in, it is entirely my automobile and I am wholly accountable for it. It was actually a recent trip to a mechanic that inspired these past few strips.
You, the reader, (and many others) are probably saying “Well get into gear then! If you want a mature life then go and get it!”. Well DUUUUUUUUUUUUH! I’m not being complacent here; everyday I’m hustlin’. (Maybe every other day, I have to alternate between hustlin’ and paying my dues/bills.)
My point is: Don’t think that I don’t know how dire my situation is. I know I’m lagging behind.