How to Be an Adult

"Whenever I see an adult on a bicycle, I do not despair for the future of the human race."
-H.G. Wells

Presented here are guidelines for how one can most easily cast off that idle, silly nature of youth.

Spend Winter complaining bitterly when it snows; let the slush melt away without your having flung a single snowball; do not, under any circumstance, seek out the tracks of squirrels or similarly small creatures.

Grumble about the warm, wet sweep of Spring; declare that the season is neither here nor there; suggest that the year is already passing by too quickly and it is too late to resolve anything or to begin a routine; avoid any Spring cleaning of the house and mind.

Mutter to oneself and to one's closest audience about the nuisance and cost of having to run the Air Conditioner in Summer; notice astutely that there are too many tourists; rant vociferously and lengthily about one's deep loathing for mosquitoes; do not sit under any shady trees.

Reflect sagely in Autumn on how the year has flown by like a bird that did not pause for rest; mumble about the inevitable death and tumble of leaves; drag one's rain jacket from the cupboard with a loud, protracted sigh.

Weep because there is nothing to do and because life is utterly, hopelessly boring.
Do not look for animal tracks. They might lead somewhere.