I am not good at responsibility.

Like Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half, I feel as though responsibility should be an achievement, something that you work toward, attain, and never have to worry about again. As it turns out, responsibility is not like that. Responsibility is more of a character trait, like athleticism or punctuality or badassedness. Some people are naturally athletic/badass/responsible, and other people are like me.

To be entirely fair, I recognize that I am on the autism spectrum, which in part means that I have some trouble with what’s referred to as “executive functioning.” Things like remembering to put on clothes, hit the left-side pedal when I want the car to stop, select appropriate grocery items, move laundry from washer to dryer…all those basic things that a nearly-25-year-old woman should pretty much be accustomed to doing without much thought. I should make a checklist for myself, but that’s another task I’d need to put on the checklist. Things that should be really obvious tend to either not occur to me or seem like incredibly daunting super-tasks. I’ve been known to look up from the computer at 10pm and wonder why my tummy is growly, and then remember that I was going to eat something eight hours ago but got sidetracked…

Still, having a little touch of the autism shouldn’t excuse me from behaving like some kind of an adult, so I try hard to keep track of all the things I should do and force myself to actually do them. To my benefit, I have a good memory for lists, so if I just think of my tasks in list form–very detailed list form–I can usually avoid missing really important stuff.

So anyway, responsibility. This adulthood stuff is no joke. I have things like a car and health insurance (yay!) and bills and bank accounts and an 8-to-5 job. I do things like go to the gym and make doctor appointments and go grocery shopping for responsible-people food like milk and fruit and yogurt that  doesn’t come in a squeezy-tube. And then I drive home after work (and the gym) and eat responsible-people food like rotisserie chicken and carrot sticks and whole-grain bullshit. It’s truly remarkable.

I did a new remarkable thing today: I made an appointment for a routine physical with a new doctor. First of all, while I know that responsible people believe in the value of things like “preventive medicine,” I have tended toward the side of “if it ain’t broke, don’t stick a speculum in it.” Second, how the heck are you supposed to pick a doctor when you don’t know any in town? I ended up going with the name I liked best and wound up with a different doctor at that same practice (who also has a nice-sounding name). So now I have this appointment set for tomorrow, and I had to figure out how to word the email to my boss (“So, I’m skipping out early in favor of being poked and prodded by a stranger, mkay?”) and now I need to figure out if I’ve accumulated any paid time off yet and if I can use it tomorrow (or if I want to). Then I’ll just need to cross my fingers and hope that I read my insurance information correctly and this whole doctor thing is actually covered.

If it all goes off without a hitch, I will feel so motherfucking responsible. Which is good, because I haven’t finished unpacking after my move back to Bloomington over a month ago. I could use a little responsibility in my life.

I just bit into a ridiculously delicious apple and the resulting crunch was so satisfying. I thought that should be recorded for posterity. Honeycrisp apples = good choice.


Posted on 7 November 2011, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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