You never thought you’d become “that” person–the one whose mannerisms or actions you mocked or pitied without knowing what postgrad life actually entailed.
Now that reality has set in, you find yourself contributing to or representing the image you so desperately tried to avoid. Even worse, you find yourself enjoying it. And you know what? That’s okay. *sips Bloody Mary*
You change into heels on the subway and give the people watching you a “look” even though it’s public transportation.
You’re more interested in your fantasy football/baseball/whatever league than your dwindling personal life.
You go shopping in Whole Foods completely wasted after brunch without giving it a second thought.
Knowing you’ll dress the same way (polo, khakis, and boat shoes) for the rest of your life. And you’re more than okay with it.
You wonder why people purchase cable when you’re pirating Netflix and HBO GO from your parents’ accounts.
Credit card points aren’t a novelty, they’re a way of life.
You carry your fraternity’s signature koozie to post-work happy hour in a futile effort to reclaim your former sense of self.
You don’t know how to grocery shop or fend for yourself to the point where you get so flustered you have to leave the store.
Your dinner parties consist of straight liquor and appetizers because that’s all you can manage.
Considering how many people just want to watch the world burn, your goal of making good use of your beach and resort collection seems like a fine, overarching plan.
Your #tbts on Instagram are solely much hotter photos of you in college and jailbait photos from when you were in high school. You can’t tell if they’re more for yourself or to remind others of your forgotten potential.
When people ask you for cocktail recipes, you’re just like, “I don’t know–vodka?”
Doing laundry and dishes is such a bleak necessity that you end up pregaming it.
You splurge on nice, monogrammed pajamas because damn it, you work hard and deserve it.
You take a shot every time you see an engagement or birth announcement on Facebook.
You’ve been dressing like a slightly slutty MILF for the past few years and don’t see anything changing.
You’re jokingly proposed to several times a week either on the street or via the Internet and it has lost any comedic effect.
Your friends think your girlfriend is crazy and you’d have to agree. But you end up staying with her, because boobs.
You blow a ton on “back to school shopping” even though you’ll never have a first day of class again.