Dear Adulthood: I Resign

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Dear Adulthood: I Resign

To Whom It May Concern,

Please accept this letter as notice of my intention to resign from my position as a (semi-functioning) adult. I have received an offer to return to living at my parents’ house and will collect an allowance for doing menial household tasks, similar to when I was ten years old. After careful consideration, and the realization that there was no better time in my life than when I was a pre-teen with no responsibilities, I believe that this opportunity is too enticing for me to decline.

My last day of adulthood will be tomorrow, September 16, 2015. While I realize this is shorter than the standard two-weeks notice usually given, as that I am no longer going to be functioning as a mature human, I simply cannot find the energy to give a shit.

It has been (sort of) a pleasure being a grown-up over these last few years. Some of the highlights of my short-lived adulthood were trying to figure out how to pay my exorbitant student loans on my meager salary, dragging myself to work in the morning after two-dollar margarita night with a hangover that probably warranted an IV, and perfecting the fine art of sleeping while sitting up with my eyes open in meetings.

Additionally, I believe many of the skills I learned during my brief tenure as an adult, such as appearing to be listening intently when I am really daydreaming about burritos and answering questions with what seem like thoughtful answers but are really loads of crap, will come in handy as I spend my days lying on the couch watching The Price is Right, Judge Judy, and Family Feud while my mother nags me to get off my ass and use that expensive degree to make something of myself.

Lastly, I’d like to thank adulthood for teaching me some of the lessons you just don’t learn when getting that prestigious degree that left me deeply in debt. Among these important teachings:

• Hard work does not actually pay off, which I learned when the promotion I had been working for was given to Bob from accounting. Yes, Bob, who regularly comes in late, spends three hours at the gym during lunch, and is never anywhere to be found after 5:00 p.m.

• There is such a thing as bad bacon… particularly when you have to buy it at the dollar store because it was all you could afford.

• Despite it being the most important and prominent question during sorority recruitment, no one actually gives a shit about my hometown or my major.

• Aging even a few years makes it much more difficult to recover from the weekend-long tequila-and-Taco-Bell binge that used to take only a 2-hour nap, a Gatorade, and an Advil to cure.

Again, thank you again for providing me with the opportunity to attempt to be an adult. I wish you and your fellow grown-ups all the best and I look forward to mooching off you at any and every opportunity. You can email or call me any time since I’ll be going back on my dad’s wireless plan.


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There really did used to be 2NOTBrokeGirls, but since one of them spent all of her money on shoes and vodka, there's now just one (financially stable) J, who is too lazy to change her user name. J spends her free time saving the world, one sorority girl at a time (usually while wearing yoga pants), questioning why she decided to go to graduate school, and documenting her love of all things cheese related. You can ask her anything you want about football, using your boobs to get what you want, and pizza at @2NOTBrokeGirls on Twitter or

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