Flying the Plane

When I was ten,

I thought adults knew everything.

Teachers knew the rules.

Parents knew the answers.

Bosses knew the plan.

Somewhere around thirty they probably hand you a binder: HOW TO BE

A FUCKING PERSON.

Chapter one: money.

Chapter two: relationships. Chapter three:

what the hell you're supposed to do on a Tuesday.

Apparently—

There is no binder.

NOBODY READ THE INSTRUCTIONS!

NOBODY GOT 'EM AT ALL!

We're building the plane while we're flying the thing and pretending we

planned every fall!

NOBODY READ THE INSTRUCTIONS!

Everybody just learned how to nod—

Say, “Yeah, that makes sense,” then walk into another room and quietly

ask, “What the fuck?”

Then I got a boss.

Thought: This guy definitely knows.

Three months later he pulls me aside: “What do you think we

should do?” ME?!

You're wearing the fucking tie!

Then somebody younger asked me for advice.

I gave him this beautiful answer.

Calm. Confident. Wise. He walks away like I changed his life.

I made half that shit up while I was saying it. Oh

no.

Parents guessing. Bosses guessing.

Experts estimating. Rich

people making

expensive guesses. Everybody's got a calendar,

a password, a mortgage,

and apparently that's enough to convince the children we're qualified.

NOBODY READ THE INSTRUCTIONS!

WE'RE ALL JUST MAKING THE CALL!

Some people guess with confidence,

some people guess wearing suits—

But motherfucker— WE'RE GUESSING!

Wait.

Hold on. You mean there isn't some higher level

where everybody finally knows?

No secret meeting?

No handbook? No adultier adults?

WAIT—

YOU MOTHERFUCKERS ARE GUESSING TOO?!

NOBODY READ THE INSTRUCTIONS!

AND MAYBE THAT'S ACTUALLY FINE!

We're learning it five fucking minutes before somebody asks us for advice!

NOBODY READ THE INSTRUCTIONS!

SO QUIT WAITING TO FEEL PREPARED!

Everybody who ever went first went first without knowing what was there!

NOBODY KNOWS! GOOD! NOBODY KNOWS!

THEN LET'S FUCKING GO!

So…

who's in charge?