I find I have, at best, a tenuous grasp on the rudiments of being a grown-up. I would like to tell you that the apartment is spic and span, that vegetables are consumed as part of a balanced meal every evening, and that I am constantly deeply engrossed in literature. This is not the case. Indeed, the apartment looks as though it may be occupied by three or four phantom college students who can't be bothered to hang up their clothes. And last night I had Shredded Wheat for dinner. What's worse, perhaps, is that I was rather proud of myself for (finally) having gone to the grocery store. The night before, I would not have been able to have Shredded Wheat because there was simply no Shredded Wheat to be had. In the midst of the indifferent housekeeping and questionable nutrition, I watch a great deal of television.

This morning, I had vowed to go to the gym for the first time since (ahem) March. I tried to pave the way for success. I packed all the necessary items and put them near the bed last night. All that would be required of me would be to get up, put on quasi clothing, and leave the house. The rest would be dealt with post-swim. It turns out that the "get up" part is a significant obstacle. Or rather, that it is still a significant obstacle, as it has been since I was about 10 years old. Tomorrow, I will try again. Please stop laughing. I will so try.

To make up for all my shortcomings, though, today I did something almost mind-bogglingly adult. I took a deep breath and agreed to have the oral surgery my dentist has been talking about for the last five years. Not only will this involve having something that is referred to on the invoice as "Bio-material: human dermal product" sewn into my mouth, it will also cost several thousand dollars. Truly, I have never spent this much money on anything in my life with the exception of my car. When I think of the trips to Italy I could take with that money, or the fetching dresses I could purchase by the armful --really, the list of delightful things available to me that would not involve human dermal product or bleeding gums is almost endless--it makes me a little tearful. To be clear, I don't actually have these thousands of dollars, they will be squeezed from me slowly and painfully over the course of a year. Woo hoo.

But you know who makes an investment in gum health today to avoid false teeth tomorrow? A grown-up, that's who. Now I'm going to have some chocolate and maybe start watching "Breaking Bad" again from the beginning. Shut up. You're not the boss of me.