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    Feelin' 23.

    Because even my girl T. Swift can't write a catchy tune about how awful this is.

    RE: BUZZFEED LIFESTYLE WRITER

    Looking back, my 16-year-old self thought I'd have everything figured out by now. School? Done. Engaged? Sounds great. Living alone and having money to spare? I'm in.

    Flash forward 7 years, one school transfer, two heartbreaks, and countless panic attacks later and I'm NOWHERE where I'm "supposed," to be. And I'm still living with my parents. Great.

    The funny thing is, is that no one, well besides Blink 182's classic "What's my Age Again," tells you how much 23 is going to suck. You're right out of college, feeling like you're about to take on the world, and the first interview you go to, you don't have enough experience. 5+ years of experience for an entry level position? K. Just K. And I'm sure I don't need to go on and on about that, as like all serious matters, memes have been made about the topic.

    So while you're eating the cheapest lunch you can find, you start browsing how much money you'll need to support a lifestyle in (insert overpriced city here). For me? It's about 2K. A month. Just for rent. Before you let yourself get TOO overwhelmed, you start browsing jobs that pay more than 20K a year, to see if maybe, just MAYBE, you're qualified. Even if you're not, you'll apply because maybe, just MAYBE you'll be that exception. You know, one of those Devil wears Prada moments where you go from intern to HBIC? Well, its takes about five "I'm sorry to inform you but," emails to realize you're not the exception.

    Before you know it, your day is over and you go home to get some space. Maybe drink a glass of your two buck chuck, lounge around in your underwear. Oh wait, no. You forgot, you live at home with your family. Who, last time I checked, does NOT want you to be prancing half naked around the house no matter how much your underwire dug into your chest, or your tie suffocated you all day long. So you go to your overcrowded room, where if you're anything like me, you have way too much stuff shoved in a 12X12 that would really fit better in a studio apartment in (insert overly priced city here). By this point, you're usually so frustrated, and desperately trying to figure out how to afford 2K a month, that your head goes straight to "I can always be a stripper." But no, because usually people like their strippers to have some sort of hand-to-eye coordination, and with all the coffee stains on your carpet, maybe that's not your thing.

    You look up from your verge of a panic attack, and realize it's only 10PM, plenty of time to catch up on your (okay, so your parents) Netflix account, and call it a night. Because why not? You've had a long day of rejection, you could use some Buffy re-runs to help sooth your soul. While waiting for your connection to load, you decide to be an adult and check your email. What's that? An email from your recruiter saying that there is a job opening but she needs you to write a new cover letter by tomorrow? Well, say goodbye to Buffy and Angel, and hello to editing your basic cover letter to something that actually makes it sound like you're qualified in more than just eating fried food and napping in weird places.

    It's about 1 a.m. when you're finished, and you're feeling pretty confident that your use of "immensely," rather than "very," is totally going to get you the job. So you hit send, and decide to watch an episode of Buffy to reward yourself. I mean googling synonyms for "very," is a lot of work. It's after two episodes when you realize it's 3 a.m. and have to be up at 7a.m. to get to your minimum wage job by 7:30 and look decent. But you know what, it might be the mind numbing exhaustion wearing out your brain, or a moment of sheer insanity, but you wouldn't want your life any other way. Because even though it's awful, and stressful, and down right annoying, there is some magic in the madness. But, you should still probably try to get more sleep, those dark circles ain't cute.