My Evidence For Why Everyone Is About Just As Confused As You Are

I have a suspicion. Want to hear it? No? Well, too bad. Here it is anyway: Nobody knows what the hell is going on. Not truly. That’s my suspicion. I suspect that EVERYBODY is doing some interesting mix of improvising, pretending, self-delusion, just doing the best they can, and hoping it will be enough.

But, hey, don’t just take my word for it. I am basing this on solid research. I present to you the two clues that tipped me off:

Clue 1: I thought when I got older I would have all the answers; I’m now older but no more omniscient

For everybody who doesn’t know what the one-word description of all-knowing is (I had to google it, too): it’s omniscient.

When I was a little kid, I thought that’s what adults were. Okay, maybe they don’t know everything, but at least like 90% of stuff. I was very impressed, “Will you look at these big people?! How capable and confident they are. That must be amazing. I tend to get frightened and confused, but not them. They know what’s going on.”

Then time passed. I was still a kid, but a little less little. I thought, “I can’t wait to be like the big people. To just have stuff figured out like that, you know?”

Some more time goes by; I’m 15/16, and I don’t feel like I’m even close to knowing everything yet. So I tell myself, “Yeah, well, I’m not eighteen yet. Then, I’ll know. You’ll see.”

At 18: “Okay, so I’m not totally there yet, but I only just became an adult. I’m not a full adult yet. I’m like an apprentice adult. Soon I’ll be the real deal.”

At 20: “It can’t be much longer now. It has to be right around the corner. Has to.”

At 22: “Huh. I, uh… yeah, I don’t know what to tell you. Things haven’t changed much. I thought I’d be there by now.”

I had figured that a point would come where an older adult would pull me aside and go, “Alright, we’ve been watching you. You’re ready. We’ll give the adult book. No, no, not the dirty one, the one with all the answers in it.”

And I’d read it; it would tell me everything I’d ever need to know, and I would graduate adult school. After that someone would open a secret panel in my back and flip the switch from “Child” to “Adult.”

Which still hasn’t happened. Yet. They still might, but by now I’m not getting my hopes up too much anymore.

I look at it this way: If one really was suddenly, magically transformed into these “grown-ups,” it probably should have happened by now. Maybe they’ll jump out and yell, “Surprise!” at forty. But I’m not really buying it.

Clue 2: It doesn’t only seem to be me; other people appear to be imperfect as well

Now, BEHOLD EXHIBIT B: I have worked at some places, and you know what? People there sometimes make mistakes too.

*gasp*

I know. I was shocked, too. People making mistakes? How is that possible?

I don’t know. But it is. And not just little ones, either. I mean, take a look at some of these:

• Doctors forgetting surgical equipment in patients.

• Doctors amputate the wrong leg.

• The Titanic (that wasn’t supposed to happen).

So, yeah… people ain’t perfect.

Which is also what I learned when I worked at places.

When I worked at a restaurant, I found out people who work at a restaurant are also just people.

For some reason I used to think that when a waiter or barkeeper told me something and I didn’t understand him, it was because I was an idiot and it was my fault. I mean, he’s a pro, for god’s sake.

Then I went to work at a restaurant. Without having to train for it for eight years. Someone just handed me a tray and said, “Bring this to table 12.”

And then I did. And they said, “Thank you.” And started eating. Just like that. They didn’t ask me to prove to them that I could carry ten plates at the same time. They didn’t quiz me to see whether I knew the name of every restaurant with a Michelin star. They didn’t expect me to be able to recite the correct way to prepare a cordon bleu.

Some time later, I worked at a doctor’s office. And guess what? I just went, learned some things, and got to work. I didn’t get everything right, but neither did my coworkers. Things that confused me confused them. Things I struggled with, others struggled with, too. These medical professionals, I had been in awe of, were just like me. Human.

Summary

So, yes, a lot of my evidence is based on how I thought things were when I was a kid. Which is not the most solid evidence anyone has ever seen. Guilty as charged.

I still suspect me to be on to something, however. My conclusion therefore remains unchanged: People make stupid, silly, human mistakes all the time. We’re all more or less making it up as we go.

Which feels kind of freeing to me. Because I might not have all the answers, but I’m not supposed to. Hurray!

I guess deep down we’re all just a bunch of flawed, confused, hairless apes, trying to make the best of the couple of decades we get on this ball of water and dirt.