Sad Confession: Life Only Gets Harder [Twenty-Something Rules]

I sat down with my best friend last night at a patio for a grilled cheese and a hoppy beer. This ritual is the perfect cure for a skid-mark of a week. We both shared our stories. Work has been stressful, family life has us both in a bind, it’s getting more and more tough to pay bills…blah blah blah. We both decided there once was a point in our life when we didn’t worry about A THING. That sweet little time was the epic shitshow heaven that was college. The biggest worry we had was making it in time for hung-over eggs at the cafeteria, or keeping our skirt all the way down for a blissful, drunken night out. Those weren’t worries but that was our life. Nothing but a funny inside joke and a good story from the nights past.

Things have changed so much since then. What I’ve learned?

Life can be a shit sandwich. Accept it and move forward.

From one twenty-something to another, let’s take on a new meaning.

Rule #176: It’s OK to hate yoga.

I’ve tried yoga a few times and to be completely honest, the only thing I’ve gotten out of it was unwanted gas. Yes, it’s relaxing, zen and very good for your muscles. And it’s like “SO FUN to buy cute $6594 Lululemon pants to go downward dog.” Meh, I’m over it. I felt pressured to fall in love with yoga, and then decided it’s not worth it. Besides, during my last class, the teacher sweat a droplet on my forehead while we were “winding down” from our “strenuous post stretch.”

Rule #177: It’s also OK to be god-forsakenly scared of babies.

I saw a baby scream-crying in Erbert’s and Gerbert’s this afternoon and I realized I was staring at it like it robbed the cash register with its own hands. BABIES CAN BE SCARY. Their blotchy little crying faces, perpetual habit of rubbing food all over everywhere, how they wander around like drunk Frankenstein’s…it’s all an unknown mystery to me. Obviously I understand I’ll love my own someday, but for now I will not pretend to think kids are “So cute, oh my God look at her fat cheekies and baby knuckles!” Sorry, no. I’ll be in the corner pretending to send an email.

Rule #178: Embrace your semi-disastrous and messy little life.

I admire the ones who embrace who they are; but especially embrace the mess they are. Whether it’s a dorky mess, clumsy mess, emotional mess…I love all of it. Look at Emma Stone, Jennifer Lawrence, Zooey Deschanel, Chelsea Handler, Amy Poehler. All of my favorite women embrace the inevitable: a shameless messiness.

Rule #179: Pack your own lunch.

“When I grow up, I want to sit at my desk and have a burning fire inside of my chest for the excitement that is my noon turkey sandwich. That I made by myself.” –My new life goal has been fulfilled. Do it. You’ll look forward to lunch every day and save some serious cash money.

Rule #180: You can get away with more if you’re dressed well.

Aside from murder, you literal Nancy.

Rule #181: Nobody cares about these three things: (your dreams, what you ate today, how you feel about the last episode of the Bachelor).

This is the honest truth. I don’t know why I feel the need to tell people I had a dream I was flying on a tie-dye carpet with an Oompa Loompa…(promise I’m not smoking). Either way, nobody cares. And nobody cares about how much you’ve had to eat today. Make your dream book and Weight Watchers plan your new best friends.

Rule #182: If your gums hurt, you do not have gum disease and you are not going to die in public, suddenly.

There is something about my 20’s that make me feel like I’m dying all the time. Does this get worse with age? I hope not. Stop the over-analyzing. The doctor is going to tell you to pop an Advil and give you that demeaning smile anyway.

Click here for rules 1-175!

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