What grown-up things do you not do?

I, too, don’t make my bed. I only make it on occasion when I think someone might see it. I figure, it’s just going to get messed up again, isn’t it?

I also don’t like to cook (although I find myself wanting to cook for my fiance, weird, huh?) or clean.

I HATE ironing! Matter of fact, I hate it so much that I will pick my work clothes out the night before and hang them in the bathroom. The next morning, I let the steam from the shower take care of the wrinkles. That new Downy wrinkle releaser works too.

Not a big fan of laundry, either. However, my mother (who is not in good health) lives with me. Laundry is one the things she can still do, and it gives her purpose, so I let her go at it…

It’s not Cutter John from Bloom County, but it’s Cutter John from Bloom County? Boy, I’m glad you cleared that up! :slight_smile:

I suppose that I should confess that I did have a personal experience with the dangers inherent in unmade beds, a tale so harrowing that it almost, almost convinced me to actually start tidying my bed up regularly.

It was five years ago or so, when I was living in Tucson, but had some good friends living down in Bisbee. Every weekend, I’d wander down there, and crash at their place, and go horseback riding on Sundays.

I stayed in a little room in their basement, complete with a single bed. And I never made the bed.

Well, in Bisbee, things are a little wilder than in the rest of cosmopolitan Arizona. If someone from the east coast asks us Tucsonans how we deal with snakes, and spiders, and scorpions, we just laugh derisively. Those things aren’t really all that common around here, we say. You’ve been watching too many westerns.

So, I arrive in Bisbee one weekend, and spend some time hanging around with my friends, enjoying their company and getting inebriated. And about, one in the morning, I went to bed. To that unmade bed in the basement room.

I took off my clothes, got into bed, snuggled down, and sat bolt upright. I had experienced a sharp, jabbing pain in my right foot, then another, then another, and the pain was just getting worse.

I jumped out of bed, and threw the covers back. And there, nestled down at the end of my unmade bed, was an eensy little scorpion, claws up, tail poised, making “You want a piece of me?” gestures.

I grabbed a nearby heavy object, and ended the insect’s existence messily. Then put on some clothes, and went upstairs to find out if I was going to die.

Apparently, at some time during this ordeal, I’d let out a demure little bloodcurdling yowl, because my hosts were up. I explained the situation to them, and they laughed at me a while, and said it would wear off in a few days. I mentioned that it was excruciatingly painful, and fortunately they had a solution on hand for that. Several hours of inebriation later, I went to sleep on the couch.

I had an interesting limp for several days, but did manage to go riding the next morning.

All of which goes to prove two things:

  1. I’ll go to bed with anything.

  2. I should make my bed.

…but I won’t.

Oh, what a good thread!

I’m glad to see that I’m not the only “adult” that doesn’t make his bed, balance his checkbook, or separate his laundry :slight_smile:

I’ll take the clothes thing on step farther. Most of the time my clothes stay in the clothes basket next to my dresser until I need them. I HATE putting them away.

All of the above… plus… I have an empty clothes hamper situated in the middle of a pile of dirty clothes.

You don’t sort your laundry? What kind of infidels are you people? :stuck_out_tongue:

While I do sort laundry, I don’t make my bed or balance my checkbook. In fact, I have never–not even once–balanced my checkbook. Damn proud of that, too.

I don’t like to put my clothes away either. That falls in the same category as making the bed – why bother? they are just going to get messed up again. Why not save the step???

Then, when I can’t find my clothes, I remember why we are supposed to put them away…

Well, When I was single I always cleaned the house and made the bed cause how else would a lady friend come over for romance?

I’m somewhat depressed to admit that I actually do most of these things, even though I don’t consider myself a bona fide “adult” (I drew the line at “acting grown up” ages ago). I suppose I should blame most of it on my wife, but that wouldn’t be diplomatic.

Of the other don’ts, I definitely long for “don’t wear adult clothing”. I worked nine months at a cutting-edge computer software company, so I managed to avoid wearing a suit-n-tie the whole time and went to work in T-shirts and jeans … now that was nice. Too bad that I have to find a new job now, because I’m pretty sure I won’t get that perk again.

Bleagh.

Dry cleaning. If I can’t throw it in the washer, I won’t buy it. There’s something about taking things to the dry cleaners and picking them up that I find depressing. It just seems too much like a grown-up ritual.

Ever since getting married I have done a LOT of grown-up stuff that I hadn’t done in the first 10 years of my adulthood. I never even did dishes, I rarely ate at home and when I did it was all disposable. I still wash all the colors together, but I do it on cold now like my wife (before it was all in ‘hot’). I have a car loan, looking into buying a mobile home, I do dishes…

Oh my goodness, now I am going to have to admit the real dirt…not just the minor infractions.

I, too, do not iron. I do not fold. I do not put away. Most of my clothes sit in a mesh laundry bag. When the bag gets empty (and dirty clothes are stuffed away in strange corners of my house) I simpy refill the bag with the dirty clothes, wash, and start over again. If an item of clothing spends the entire dirty-clean cycle without leaveing the bag (being worn) enough, I’ll take it out of circulation by shoveing it in a drawer where it will never be seen again.

I make my bed about 1/3 of the time.

I don’t use the crisper or dairy sections of my fridge. Nor do I make ice cubes.

I will never, ever wear high heels.

Likewise, I don’t see the point of wearing slips under my dresses. I’ve also started to slack on bra wearing…ack!

I only recently got my first pair of pajamas. Before that I slept in various stages of undress in my day clothes.

I don’t wash my hair every time I shower.

I don’t have a planner, appointment book, or even a calender. Most of the time I guesstimate the date.
Often I am wrong, usually when I have job interviews.

I don’t have a drivers’ license, at 20.
I always thought that as soon as I became an adult, I would get some sort of secret understanding of the adult world. I always assumed that then things like wearing slips and sorting laundry would suddenly start making sense. I am just now realizeing I was wrong!

I don’t make the bed unless we’re having company - in case the master bathroom is needed.
I kinda sorta balance the checkbook - plus or minus a few dollars is close enough.
I sort my laundry - by color and by weight - I don’t need something light and quick to dry spinning forever with the jeans, ya know.
I HATE wearing anything that requires pantyhose - pretty much just a funeral is the only thing that gets me that dressed up.
I don’t wear makeup or style my hair. No manicures or pedicures. Apart from a moisturizer on my face in the morning and lip gloss if my lips are chapped…
I wear a watch and my wedding band - and the occasional necklace if I have to look like a grown-up.
I don’t like having conversations about weighty matters - if I can’t crack a joke, I get bored fast.
I don’t like alcohol or coffee.
I don’t belong to any associations - not social or political or aligned with any cause. Well, OK, I joined the PTA, but I don’t go to meetings.
I don’t feel 47, so I don’t intend to act it either.

I’ve never had a cup of coffee, and I don’t wear shoes (just sneakers).

well, as a 26 year old there are many things I don’t do, most of which jive with the rest of this thread
–I don’t think I’ve ever made my bed in my life. Although I do remember my mother telling me to thousands of times
–I have no idea how much money is in my checking or savings account, nor do I know how much is on my credit cards
–I cooked once, but mixed up tsp for tbsp which is really important when it comes to salt. And that was the end of that
–I’m still in school (9 years and counting baby!)
–no rent, no electricity, no cable, no other bills
–I have a dirty clothes pile right next to my clean clothes pile. Although I can handle this because I through out enough clothes so that I only have about 6 shirts, 2 pairs of shorts and some underware. I have a couple pairs of pants but I never wear them. (don’t need em here)
–I’ve pretty much never gone to bed before 1am. In fact it’s 12:42am right now
–I’ve never bought smokes, bought alcohol or bought coffee. I had to qualify becuase my friends have bought, but that rates in the once every 4 years category
–I don’t date (I have to provide 24-7 care for grandmother, can’t leave house)
–I don’t have a car, refused to get my license till 21, and then my mom made, literally she MADE me get my licence.
–Never stood up to my mother

Although on the plus side I quit having birthday parties in 1980. And I have worked a couple times. sigh, I’m sad because I know that eventually a girl will come along and make me change, well, not really

[ul][li]When I go to an ATM, I don’t note it in my checkbook register for a few days. I also usually wait until I’ve gotten my bank statement to note my direct deposit from work, though I’ve never had to use my over-draft protection.[/li]
[li]I sometimes go 3100 miles between oil changes.[/li]
[li]Every morning, I only make my bed on my side. Since I’m single, I’ve cleverly managed to keep most of the other side “made” while I sleep, but when it does get pulled out, I leave it until I feel good and ready to make the whole thing, usually later that day. I also only wash or change my bed sheets once a week.[/li]
[li]I usually wait to iron my shirts until the morning I’m going to wear them.[/li]
[li]I use Dryel[sup]tm[/sup] on my suits and sweaters instead of going to a dry cleaner.[/li]
[li]I leave my breakfast dishes in the sink until I get home from work, and sometimes I’ll just throw everything in the dishwasher instead of washing by hand.[/li]
[li]I don’t vote. I can’t bring myself to cast my opinion of one idiot in favor of another. When they let a decent candidate get through the Primaries, I’ll look into voting.[/li]
[li]I only go to the dentist maybe once a year for a cleaning and the same for the doctor WRT my annual check-up, unless I’m sick, then it’s somewhat more often.[/li]
[li]I sometimes wait to fully fund my IRA until the last possible day and I don’t max my 401k, (I only put 10% instead of 15%.)[/li]
[li]I only brush my cats every other day or so.[/li]
I still make snow-angels every winter. Usually after drinking and sitting in a hot-tub for a while.[/ul]

Goodness, am I the ONLY one here who ENJOYS being a grown-up [she asks, glaring through her lorgnette]?

True, I don’t vaccuum or balance my checkbook as often as I should . . .But I do keep my apartment spic ‘n’ span (well, span, anyway). And I love dressing up in Grown-Up Clothes—part of the luxury of being an adult is you get to wear expensive, chic clothing!

I enjoy going to cocktail parties and trading bon mots . . . Playing mind games with other adults . . . Doing other adult things that I don’t wish to discuss here . . . And best of all, I don’t have all that long to wait before enjoying the peace and serenity of the grave!

Thanks for reminding me- I was idly thinking of finding a new job with higher pay, but then I realized that the very casual work atmosphere is an incredible plus. Here I am, with jeans and a t-shirt, and four days’ worth of stubble.

thinksnow, you crack me up. That has got to be the most ridiculously mature list of un-grown-up things I’ve ever seen. :slight_smile:

I never make my bed. Never. If I ever live in a place where I’ll risk people traipsing through my bedroom to get to the bathroom, I’ll reconsider.

I never iron anything. If the wrinkles don’t come out from hanging in the steamy bathroom while I shower, they were meant to be there.

I leave any dishes from after about noon on Tuesday until Thursday when the cleaning service comes. The rest of the week I’m pretty good about getting them done within 24 hours of dirtying them.

Need to start checking non-GD forums more often.

My mom was just in town for a 1.5 week visit. the night before she arrived I started to clean up the studio apartment, until after about ten minutes I told myself, “What am I going to do, fool her?”

She knows I’m a “pig.” I wouldn’t consider myself dirty, just messy.

But that made me think about how fast time goes, and how it always seems to go faster the older one gets. I’m 25 now, and I feel like 30 is just around the corner. I had wanted to be married and have a kid and a house at 30, or at least be on the way. Now that dream feels farther away than re-completing all the Final Fantasies again. Well, that last sentence should probably be rephrased because it sounds like I care. Right now, if I found a girl who was as messy as I and liked video games, I would cut off my pinky finger for her. no othres, though, need them for video games.

[li]Provided it hasn’t been 1000 degrees outside, I still use the college-clothes routine of “if it don’t smell its clean.”[/li][li]Dishes? I wash them when I need them. Usually along the lines of, “Oh, peanut butter and jelly? Time to wash a lone butterknife.”[/li][li]Laundry hamper is too small to hold all the dirty clothes I pump out, and I make no real effort to do anything about it. Come to think of it, “no real effort” even implies I do something. I don’t, other than kick them out of the way[/li][li]Everything is an ashtray, ala Dirk Gently.[/li][li]Ba…lance…chu…check…buk? :confused:[/li]I’m sure there are other things that would shock the conservative housewife, but never having associated with such folk, I honestly cannot say.

Oh, and my mom thinks its funny.