Everything Still Works, But Nothing Feels Okay:

Why Basic Adulting Now Feels Like a Crisis Event

Let’s start with the obvious: technically, society is still functioning.

The lights come on. The coffee brews. The traffic lights blink their little red-green binary hearts. You can still go to the grocery store, still file taxes, still watch some half-dead sitcom on Hulu while folding laundry and pretending everything is fine.

But let’s not lie to ourselves—everything feels harder than it should be.

Not because our daily lives have changed dramatically. But because the background radiation of existential dread has been dialed up to eleven, and our nervous systems are absorbing it like tiny emotional sponges soaked in cortisol and existential despair.

Since Trump took office again in January 2025, it’s like the country got hit with a psychic flu: subtle, persistent, exhausting. You’re not sure what’s real, what’s performative, or what’s quietly eroding behind the screaming headlines and algorithmic distractions.

So let’s talk about it.

Let’s name the perfectly “normal” tasks that have become impossibly exhausting under this weird, low-grade authoritarian drizzle.


1. Opening the Mail

Remember when mail was just mail? Now it’s a roulette wheel of stress:

  • Bills that come with “patriotic service surcharges”
  • Jury summons for cases that feel like satire (The People vs. The Gay Library?)
  • A weird envelope from an agency that technically no longer exists but still sends threats

Your mailbox isn’t a portal to information anymore. It’s a Pandora’s box with a return address.


2. Scheduling a Doctor’s Appointment

Healthcare was already a bureaucratic maze. Now it’s a Hunger Games arena:

  • Insurance plans with names like “FreedomChoice Ultra Patriot Plan™” that don’t cover mental health but will pay for ivermectin
  • Clinics renamed things like “Red Blood Wellness Centers”
  • New patient forms asking if you’ve taken a loyalty oath this quarter

You call for help and get asked your “preferred provider and level of flag respect.”


3. Trying to Focus at Work

On paper, your job hasn’t changed. But inside your skull?

  • Your brain is playing Chicken Little on a loop
  • Every Slack ping sounds like, “Hope you’re being productive while democracy erodes lol”
  • Your productivity tracker is just a list of things you meant to do before the world felt like a house on fire

Trying to concentrate is like doing algebra while a clown juggles molotovs outside your window.


4. Grocery Shopping

It’s food. You need it. But now it comes with vibes:

  • Prices are high, the vibe is higher
  • Cereal brands now include Freedom Flakes and Don’t Tread On These Oats
  • Open carry is legal and casual, and now the guy in line behind you is wearing tactical flip flops

And the self-checkout says, “Have a blessed day, patriot,” and you’re like: thanks, I guess?


5. Posting Online

You used to post a meme and move on. Now:

  • You check your tone like a bomb technician
  • Satire gets flagged, facts get flamed, nuance gets eaten by bots
  • You try to be kind but end up existentially tired and shadowbanned

You can’t even tweet about your cat without someone accusing you of sedition or Satanism.


6. Reading the News Without Dissociating

Every headline reads like a Mad Lib co-written by Kafka and a YouTube conspiracy channel:

  • “Florida Bans Thermodynamics in Public Schools”
  • “Congress Passes Patriot Corn Subsidy Bill (Again)”
  • “Local Man Arrested for Wearing Mask After Patriot Act 2.0”

You scroll, you sigh, you stare into the void. The void retweets you.


7. Calling Customer Service

“Thank you for calling. Your estimated wait time is 43 minutes and one loyalty pledge.”

  • The hold music is a remix of the national anthem
  • The rep apologizes for your issue but reminds you that “true Americans solve their own problems”

You hang up and cry into your red-white-and-blue utility bill.


8. Doing Basic Housework

You start sweeping, then remember climate collapse.
You try to vacuum, but your brain is screaming about reproductive rights.
You fold laundry while wondering if your passport still works next year.

Dust bunnies whisper, “The empire is falling,” but at least you finally washed the sheets.


9. Talking to Strangers

Small talk now requires a vibe check, two disclaimers, and emotional Kevlar:

  • You ask about the weather and get a five-minute rant about “liberal clouds”
  • You compliment a coworker’s shoes and end up in a debate about pronouns
  • Even the barista looks like she’s seen some things

Every conversation feels like a potential improv scene called Please Don’t Make This Political But Also I Have No Chill Left.


10. Planning for the Future

This is the part that really hurts:

  • You want to dream, but the horizon is made of fog and lawsuits
  • You try to make a budget, but the category for “Emergency Escape Fund” keeps growing
  • You wonder if your goals matter in a country where civil rights are becoming negotiable again

Your five-year plan is now titled Survive With Dignity While the Nation Burns at a Controlled Rate.


The Point: You’re Not Failing. The System Is Designed to Exhaust You.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, depressed, anxious, or stuck in rage-laced inertia — congratulations, you’re reacting like a healthy human in a collapsing empire held together by duct tape and delusions.

The goal of this list isn’t despair. It’s recognition.
To name the surreal experience of trying to function like a “normal adult” when the context is anything but normal.

You’re not broken. You’re adapting to absurdity. And that’s exhausting.

But you’re not alone.

We see you. We see each other.

And we’re going to keep sweeping the floor, paying the bills, making memes, building stories, and cracking jokes. Not because it’s easy — but because it’s what people do when they’re alive in the middle of a slow-motion dystopia.

We laugh. We rage. We write. We resist.

Now go take a nap. Or rage-bake some muffins. Or doomscroll with better posture.

You’re doing great, considering the apocalypse has a press secretary now.