‘Before my senior year at Bethel University, I sat down with my mom and set up a budget for myself. I haven’t looked at it once since then. I just keep buying Taco Bell and tampons and telling myself it will all even out.’
I have no idea what I’m doing
[Editor’s note: “I don’t know what I’m doing” is a recurring personal column that pays homage to Johnny Auping’s “I have no idea what I’m doing” personal column in The New Yorker. Opinions expressed here belong only to the author, and, we hope, nobody else on the planet.–Josh Towner, opinions editor]
By Sierra Smith | Graphic Designer
I have a mom, a dad, and three older sisters and none of them ever bothered to tell me how to shave my legs in the shower without cutting myself, how many days is too many without showering, what to do when my eyebrows looked like hedgehogs above my eyes, or how to buy clothes that fit my changing body. None of them told me what it would be like the first time I saw blood on my pants in middle school and sat in the toilet stall alone and cried.
Over the years I’ve had to learn things the hard way, but I have a confession: I still have no idea what I’m doing.
Earlier this year my 2015 Subaru Crossover in the color of ‘Desert Khaki’ sounded like an airplane taking off the runway every time I hit the brakes. I let that happen for about a month before my dad found out and asked me how long it had sounded like that. Turns out there were no brake pads left so it was just brakes against metal.
Before my senior year at Bethel University, I sat down with my mom and set up a budget for myself. Rent, food, utilities, eating out, clothes, hygiene, and other expenses all included. I haven’t looked at it once since then. I just keep buying Taco Bell and tampons and telling myself it will all even out.
I have my mom’s Discover card for emergencies and the occasional tank of gas, but sometimes when I spend too much at Target and get stressed about money, I put it all on her card and hope she won’t notice. She does. I feel even worse when I receive a text from her asking me how the budget is going.
My sense of style is based completely off the reaction I get from my roommate, Mary, every morning. Next year she’ll marry Logan and then I’ll be out of a roommate and a fashion coordinator. I’ll go back to staring blankly into my closet for 30 minutes every morning just to end up looking like a 12-year-old boy or a goth person.
No one ever told me how to date either. I haven’t been able to keep a steady boyfriend since I broke up with my high school sweetheart four years ago. Maybe I should have just stuck with him.
I have one nephew, Judah, and I’m terrified to be alone with him. I love him and I think he’s adorable but I don’t know how to change his diaper, or what foods he likes, or when he’s supposed to go to bed, or how to keep him busy, or the correct way to hold him.
The first time I voted, I had no idea what I was doing. I went into the voting station and was surprised to find that there were more questions than just who I wanted to elect for president. I left the rest blank because I thought it would be worse to vote randomly than to just not vote at all. Secretly, I avoid educating myself about politics because I hate all of the options that I have. Is there a build-your-own option?
If I was held at gunpoint and told to do my taxes right now, the first thing I would do is google, “how to do taxes.” Why don’t they teach you how to do taxes in college? When I used to be a waitress I never reported the tips I made so that I could keep the money and not get taxed on it. Please don’t throw me in jail.
The invention of auto-correct has wrecked the advanced spelling and dexterity skills I had in the second grade. Thank for nothing, Type to Learn.
I’m pretty sure I have undiagnosed ADHD because I feel like the dog in “Up” who gets distracted by every squirrel that runs by. My dog does that, and I relate to her. She’s my best friend. Is it weird that my dog is my best friend? I love her more than most people. Maybe I’d get my homework done on time if I didn’t sit in the Brushaber Commons and lift my head to look at every single person that walks by. Maybe I should try Adderall. Does anyone have some I can borrow? Please don’t throw me in jail.
I have no idea the times when it’s appropriate to be vulnerable with people and when it’s not. Someone I hardly know walks by in the hallway and asks how I’m doing, expecting an “I’m good, how are you?” and I decide to spill my whole life story to them. My best friend asks me how I’m doing an I give a grunt that’s supposed to mean “I’m fine. How are you?” Why do I do that?
I’ve spent 18 years perfecting one thing: the game of soccer. That is the longest I have ever spent doing anything other than being alive. That is the most committed to anything I’ve ever been. And now that college is over, soccer is over. The thing that I am the best at and the most committed to is now over. Why didn’t I choose to be that committed to something that would actually get me somewhere in life? Like singing, or solving chemical equations? I’m sorry but there is one US Women’s National Team and we can’t all be on it. Sorry to break your hearts, girls. Please don’t throw me in jail.
Now I really don’t know what I’m doing.
