Often times in life, a person just has to step up and be an adult.

Despite the overwhelming feeling of not wanting to do something, you just have to grit your teeth and do what must be done.

So with that in mind, on Monday I bought a pair of pants.

One thing you all need to know is I hate shopping for clothes. I hate wandering through the aisles of Target or wherever and walking among the racks, trying to find something I want to wear.

I’m not anti-clothes obviously. I still have a job so we all know I still put them on in the morning. I just am not a “clothes” person.

Anybody who’s seen me walking about have a fairly good idea that I’m not a fashion icon. Heck, I rarely even look at the brand I’m buying, which has led to a hodgepodge of different clothing brands in my wardrobe.

A. Does it fit? Check.

B. Is it cheap? Check

C. Does it complete my shopping? Check and check.

I’ve often thought that if I ever reached a point in life where I would be required to walk a red carpet, it would become awkward pretty quickly.

“Eric, you look — comfortable. Who are you wearing tonight?”

“Um, well tonight I’m wearing Wrangler cargos, about $25 and the shirt … good question, but I saved $10 thanks to a sale.”

I’m the type of person who gets his entire money’s worth out of the clothes he buys. I just replaced my entire sock collection because I had been wearing the same socks for between two and three years, complete with holes.

Maybe it’s a comfort thing or not caring, knowing that very few people will ever see my feet, but nevertheless I replaced them because ultimately I hate the feeling of toes through holes more than buying new socks.

I run solely on function and general comfort. It’s why a large section of my wardrobe is hoodies because they are comfortable and they serve a purpose — a purpose that also coincides with being cheap.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy spending money. I enjoy a good book, love music and play video games. But that spending becomes irksome when it’s on clothes because I just don’t put that much value on clothes.

This whole issue becomes even more irritating when it comes time to actually find the clothes I need and for some reason, finding a pair of 32-34 pants is akin to finding Shangri La.

Whenever I search for this Holy Grail of pants size, I end up failing and becoming even more irritated. I’ve tried to force the issue and go a size one way or the other, but it goes as you would expect. Expecting a flood one way, looking like a refugee from a mid-90s Insane Clown Posse concert.

Don’t know who Insane Clown Posse is? It’s okay, your life won’t dip dramatically for not knowing. Just know it was … a thing. Or maybe is a thing? The point is, there were a lot of great big pants and should I replicate it now, I would still look ridiculous.

Either way, my quest for pants Monday needed to be completed, because holes in pants are a far different thing than holes in socks.

Nobody needs to see the moon in the afternoon … in an office.

We stopped at a couple places Monday after seeing “Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker.” Good movie, I recommend seeing it. I didn’t even mind the space horses. Not a spoiler, it was in the trailer.

We stopped at Target first, and while I didn’t find the cargo pants I so highly covet, I found a pair that would work — the highest bar of fashion I have — and so purchased them. Again, out of necessity.

We then decided to wander over to Scheel’s because apparently I’m way too locked up in the idea of buying cargo pants. I just love the idea of pockets? I mean I can carry a whole bunch of things, never mind that those pockets end up being around my knees because of the weight. Still, pockets.

Long story short, I didn’t buy pants, mostly because we couldn’t find anybody to let me in a changing room, which apparently require keycards now.

I was already irritated at the fact I had to buy clothes, much less wait to try on clothes, so we left, having completed at least part of the quest of buying pants.

The good news? Two more years of pants. Efficiency.