Mug

March 21st 2018

Today I had a sobering experience and realised that I’m now old as fuck. I had to stay at home today to wait for a man from British Gas to come round and do a safety check on our boiler. When he got here I did that thing that British people do and said “Do you want a drink or anything?” (I don’t really know why you have to say ‘or anything’, because I’m only offering him a drink. I’m not going to make him a sandwich or anything. See, ‘or anything’ is just another British thing, I guess.) 

As I offered him a drink (or anything) I suddenly realised that I’m almost 25. Offering the gas safety engineer a drink (or anything) is what actual grownups do. I know that in the grand scheme of things 25 isn’t that old, but at the same time, to me, it’s really fucking old.

I had another quite sobering experience when I went to actually make him the coffee. I went to get a mug out of the cupboard and realised that none of the mugs in our house are suitable to give to a random gas safety engineer who has come to check your boiler.

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All of our mugs have hearts on them, or cats, or flowers, or Hogwarts houses. None of those are acceptable mugs to give to a gas safety engineer. And I couldn’t give him the one with the ‘J’ on it because I didn’t know A) what his name was and B) whether or not it began with a J.

Being an adult is stressful, man. You have to do things like offer gas safety engineers a drink (or anything) and choose between your slightly effeminate mugs.

Until tomorrow, it gets easier, right?

Jacn

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