Adulthood Is Overrated (And Apparently, Even a Sloth Knows It)
On growing up, being tired, and why I created a grumpy sloth who refuses to take life seriously.
Remember when we were children and couldn’t wait to grow up?
Being an adult sounded wonderful.
No homework. No bedtime. No parents telling us what to do. We could eat ice cream whenever we wanted, stay up as late as we liked, and spend our money on absolutely anything.
What a beautiful dream.
And then we grew up.
Now we can eat ice cream for dinner, but we also have to remember to buy toilet paper, pay electricity bills, make dentist appointments, and figure out what to cook every single evening.
Every. Single. Evening.
Nobody mentioned that part.
And apparently, this continues for the rest of our lives.
I’m beginning to suspect that adulthood is a subscription service we accidentally signed up for, and nobody knows how to cancel it.
When Did Being an Adult Become So Complicated?
I don’t remember the exact moment I became an adult.
Was it when I started paying bills?
When I began getting excited about buying a new vacuum cleaner?
Or perhaps when I discovered that a perfectly good Saturday could be spent cleaning the house, doing laundry, and going grocery shopping?
As a child, I imagined adulthood would involve exciting adventures, independence, and endless possibilities.
I certainly didn’t imagine standing in front of the refrigerator at 6 p.m., staring at its contents as though dinner might magically assemble itself.
And yet, here we are.
The strange thing about adulting struggles is that most of them aren’t particularly dramatic.
And it’s not just my imagination. The American Psychological Association‘s 2026 Stress in America report found that 77% of surveyed US adults considered the cost of living a significant source of stress. Apparently, adulthood really does come with quite an expensive membership fee.
They’re just endless.
You finish the laundry. There’s more laundry.
You clean the kitchen. Someone gets hungry.
You pay one bill. Another arrives.
You finally clear your to-do list, and somehow three new things appear.
It’s like playing a video game where you never reach the final level, nobody gives you extra lives, and the reward for completing a task is another task.
Wonderful.
The Strange Obsession With Being Productive
As if ordinary adult responsibilities weren’t enough, modern life has decided that we should also be constantly improving ourselves.
Apparently, simply existing is no longer considered sufficient.
We should wake up early, exercise regularly, eat healthy meals, learn new skills, read more books, develop hobbies, maintain friendships, build successful careers, and somehow keep our homes looking like nobody actually lives in them.
Oh, and don’t forget to drink enough water.
There are productivity apps, habit trackers, morning routines, evening routines, and motivational videos explaining how successful people organize every minute of their day.
Some people even recommend waking up at 5 a.m. to get ahead.
Ahead of what, exactly?
The sun?
Personally, I think the sun is perfectly capable of managing without my supervision.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong with having goals or wanting to improve our lives.
I enjoy working on creative projects, learning new things, and seeing an idea slowly turn into something real.
But somewhere along the way, hustle culture has made us feel that every moment should be useful.
Even our hobbies are expected to become productive.
Enjoy painting? You should sell your artwork.
Love baking? Start a business.
Like writing? Build a personal brand.
Enjoy gardening? Perhaps you should create a gardening course.
Can’t we just grow tomatoes because we like tomatoes?
Sometimes, I want to sit in my garden with a cup of coffee, watch the birds, and accomplish absolutely nothing.
No goals. No deadlines. No personal development.
Just coffee.
And perhaps a second cup.
Meet Sid, the Sloth Who Has Had Enough
Somewhere between the endless responsibilities of adulthood and society’s obsession with productivity, an idea appeared.
What if there were a character who simply refused to participate in all this nonsense?
Not because he was particularly wise.
Not because he had discovered the secret to happiness.
But because he genuinely couldn’t be bothered.
And that’s how Sid came into my creative world.
Sid is a permanently unimpressed sloth who has absolutely no interest in becoming the best version of himself.
He doesn’t believe in hustle culture.
He considers networking an unfortunate social obligation.
He thinks Mondays are a design flaw.
And as far as he’s concerned, most meetings could be replaced by absolutely nothing.
Sid has no grand ambitions.
He isn’t interested in climbing the corporate ladder, achieving financial freedom before 30, or discovering his true potential.
He would probably find the entire concept of personal growth rather exhausting.
And that’s precisely what makes him so entertaining.
While the rest of the world is busy chasing success, Sid is wondering whether any of it is really worth getting off the sofa.
To be clear, Sid is not a role model.
Taking his advice too seriously would probably result in missed deadlines, questionable career decisions, and an impressive collection of unfinished projects.
But sometimes, that’s exactly the kind of character we need.
Someone who looks at the ridiculous expectations of modern life and says:
No, thank you.
Maybe We Should Take Life a Little Less Seriously
The more I worked on Sid, the more I realized something interesting.
Behind all his sarcasm and terrible advice, there’s a small truth that I actually agree with.
We take ourselves far too seriously sometimes.
We worry about being successful enough, productive enough, organized enough, and interesting enough.
We compare our lives with people who seem to have everything figured out.
Their homes are beautiful. Their careers are thriving. Their mornings begin with yoga, green smoothies, and perfectly organized schedules.
Meanwhile, some of us consider it a personal achievement when we remember to take the laundry out of the washing machine before it starts smelling strange.
And that’s fine.
Life isn’t always beautiful, organized, or particularly impressive.
Sometimes, it’s just ordinary.
A quiet morning.
A homemade meal.
A few hours in the garden.
An afternoon when nothing exciting happens.
I’ve always enjoyed these simple moments.
There’s something satisfying about picking vegetables from the garden, cooking with whatever is available, or sitting outside with a coffee and absolutely no urgent plans.
Not every moment needs to become an achievement.
Not every hobby needs to make money.
And not every day needs to end with the feeling that we’ve accomplished something extraordinary.
Sometimes, an ordinary day is a perfectly good day.
Sid would probably agree.
Although he’d also suggest skipping the vegetable picking and going straight to the sitting-down part.
So I Turned These Thoughts Into a Book
What began as a funny character eventually became a book.
Sid: The Grumpy Sloth’s Guide to Adulting — Terrible Advice for Work, Relationships, Mondays and Other Unnecessary Problems, published by Levy Press.
It’s not a traditional self-help book.
In fact, it’s probably the opposite.
Sid isn’t here to help anyone become more successful, organized, motivated, or emotionally enlightened.
He’s here to complain about the things most of us secretly complain about.
Work.
Money.
Relationships.
Mondays.
Unnecessary responsibilities.
And all those little everyday situations that make adulthood unnecessarily complicated.
The book is filled with sarcastic observations, questionable wisdom, and deliberately terrible advice.
It’s the sort of book you can open after a long day, read a few pages, and hopefully have a good laugh.
Because sometimes, we don’t need another motivational speech.
We just need something funny.
Something that reminds us that everyone is trying to figure things out, and that perhaps the whole business of being an adult is a little absurd.
I had a wonderful time creating Sid.
There’s something strangely satisfying about inventing a character who can say all the things we occasionally think but probably shouldn’t say out loud.
Especially during meetings.
A Little Reminder From a Very Grumpy Sloth
I don’t think Sid will ever change the world.
He wouldn’t want to.
That sounds like far too much responsibility.
But perhaps his terrible advice can remind us of something useful.
We don’t have to turn every minute into an achievement.
We don’t need to compete with everyone around us.
And we certainly don’t have to wake up at 5 a.m. simply because someone on the internet says successful people do.
Of course, responsibilities still exist.
Bills still need paying.
The laundry isn’t going to fold itself.
And dinner, unfortunately, will still need to be prepared tomorrow.
But perhaps we can stop treating every ordinary day like a performance review.
Perhaps we can enjoy a quiet afternoon without feeling guilty.
Perhaps we can laugh when things don’t go according to plan.
And perhaps, once in a while, we can admit that adulthood is completely ridiculous.
After all, nobody really gave us an instruction manual.
We just grew up and hoped for the best.
And if all else fails, there’s always Sid.
He probably won’t solve your problems.
But he’ll certainly have something sarcastic to say about them.
A Little Book for Anyone Who’s Tired of Adulting
If you enjoy dry humor, sarcastic observations, and characters who are completely unimpressed by modern life, you might enjoy meeting Sid.
📖 Sid: The Grumpy Sloth’s Guide to Adulting
Terrible Advice for Work, Relationships, Mondays and Other Unnecessary Problems
Published by Levy Press.
This post contains affiliate links. I may earn a small commission from qualifying purchases at no additional cost to you.
It’s a lighthearted humor book for anyone who has ever looked at their to-do list and wondered whether ignoring it might be a reasonable alternative.
And if you’re having one of those days when everything feels unnecessarily complicated, remember:
You don’t always need to have everything figured out.
Sometimes, a little laughter is enough.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have approximately seventeen things to do.
I think I’ll make another coffee first.
— Chez Thao Hoang
P.S. Sid would like everyone to know that he did not approve this article. It contains far too many words and an unacceptable amount of effort.
