There is nothing that makes me feel like an adult quite like getting the oil changed in my car. Responsible people perform regular maintenance on their vehicles. Ergo, if I perform maintenance on my vehicle, then I am a responsible adult!
When I left the lube shop, I wanted to walk around and tell everyone that I got the oil changed in my car so that they could be impressed by my responsible adulting. However, despite my quirks, I realize that this is a super weird thing to do. The lady in front of me at the bank and the guy at the Target checkout counter do not give a shit about my car maintenance schedule. Really, I’m pretty sure the only people who care about me getting my oil changed are my husband and maybe my dad. Instead of carrying around my receipt and showing it to everyone, I settled for leaving it on the seat of my car. That way, if anyone wants to steal my car, the thief will know that it’s up to date on routine maintenance.
Admittedly, I think I might’ve congratulated myself on successful adulthood too soon. As soon as I left the lube shop, I headed over to the auto parts store to buy a new air filter because I was smart enough to not pay for the overpriced filter the lube shop offered me.
Auto parts stores stress me out. I’m not really a car person, but I hate the paranoid feeling I get that all of the employees assume I’m not a car person simply because I have ovaries. To be fair, my paranoia isn’t completely unfounded; once, an auto parts store employee mansplained wiper fluid to me.
However, this time, I was on the top of my game. I was still riding high on the feeling of a fresh oil change and I successfully found the correct air filter without assistance. I paid for my purchase and was feeling great–until I walked straight into the door because I tried to push when I should have pulled.
Oh well. At least I got my oil changed. If anyone needs proof, I have my receipt.