Riddle me this. Why did no one warn me that 3-day weekends don’t exist in the real world? Maybe I was naive and in a college bubble, but I truly had no idea that people worked full days on Friday. Like it still blows me away me when my boss gives me a ten page to-do list on Friday at 4:00. By that time I’m in full weekend mode and already planning my outfit for the night.

Being an adult means making a lot of sacrifices. It’s about saying no to a dinner party because you can’t afford to bring more than stale bread ends. It’s about turning down movie offers because it costs 5 billion dollars to buy a ticket in NYC (and god forbid you want to see IMAX…bye bye, life savings!).

I made the terrible mistake of going home to Florida this past week to spend time with my family, see my mom’s new puppy, and get a tan. I’ve never been paler and that even includes the time that I played the Ghost of Christmas Past in a school play. However, things went horribly wrong from the start.

Some days I wake up in my NYC apartment, put on my robe, and walk around with a bowl of oatmeal saying “man oh man, am I real adult or what?” I pay bills, I clip coupons, and I change my sheets on a biyearly basis. It’s kinda like I’m checking my mailbox twice a day to see if anyone has sent me an official “you’re a functioning grown-up” certificate.

I was just sitting in my bedroom last week Facebook stalking people “who I totally don’t care about” from high school when my bedroom floor started to fill with water. Despite not majoring in investigative detective work, I was able to quickly figure out that the water was coming from our washing machine.

Turns out, just because I’m 6 months out of college doesn’t mean I’ve stopped making stupid life-threatening decisions. Take this past Saturday, for example. Despite reports that there was a massive blizzard outside, I sat inside and got ready to go out for the night. All the news reports recommended staying in. But, like usual, I thought I knew better than the news.

Well, turns out I’m destined to be a spinster for the rest of my life. Might as well start stocking up on cat litter and toe socks now. This past weekend I was kicked off my own date. Sure I’ve had some awkward dates but this is a new low…even for me.

Well I passed another major milestone in becoming an adult this week. No I didn’t learn how to file taxes and, hell no, I did not stop leaving candles burning when I left the apartment. Instead I experienced my first authentic stress-induced heart attack. Talk about being a grown-up!

After three long summers of unpaid interning (and people say slavery is illegal!) I’m finally getting my own interns tomorrow. How quickly the tables have turned.

Thanksgiving gets increasingly more stressful for me every single year. If I’m not having nightmares about the stuffing running out before it gets passed to me, then I’m biting my nails over the fact that I’ll have to explain my career to my family sixteen times.