Only 2000 weeks until retirement. Roughly. Math is hard.
Maybe I can be only of those people who retires when they are thirty. But don’t those people have like, skills? I probably have skills …
Has anyone ever retired before their twenty-fourth birthday because they could gracefully flirt with the line between “delightfully sarcastic” and “bitch”? I could be the first.
Would I get bored not having a job?
Um. Probs not. Thank you Netflix for inspiring Millennials everywhere to reject unemployment for the noble goal of mass content consumption.
Aren’t I supposed to be doing something for retirement? Isn’t there a 401K group I should be a part of? I feel like I should be saving some of my salary instead of making poor guac investments.
What about Social Security? That has to affect me. I think. Maybe I won’t even be able to retire because of the Baby Boomers. Always the Baby Boomers. Ugh. I’m probably going to have to work until I’m 87. At least. And, if my guac consumption stays at its current rate, 87 is an unrealistic goal.
I should get out of bed now.
Time to dress myself like an adult person who cares.
If clothing is a statement about who you are, what am I trying to say?
Am I feeling a, “I am a working professional lady and I know information about things that keeps me employed and I absolutely understand everything that is happening around me” look? Because I’m feeling more of a “Why, God, why” ensemble.
What the … ? What clothes did I pull for myself last night? Uh …
What kind of Sunday drug was I smoking to think that high heels would be a reasonable decision to make today? Why on Earth would I think to myself, “Oh! Monday is here! Time to throw on some stilts and hope for the best because I am definitely well-rested and prepared for this day.”
Slouchy boots – where are you?
What is the classiest way to wear sweatpants? I’m too tired for a jumping-into-leggings dance. Maybe if I throw a beautiful beige oversized sweater over my baggy grey Pink! sweatpants that are really only appropriate for a hospitalization following an Ebola outbreak, I can rock this look. The sweatpants look. That has to catch on soon, right?
Okay okay okay. Dark wash skinny jeans. Oversized sweater. A necklace so I look like I have my life together. Tall boots so I have the appearance of being able to make good decisions.
*spikes stupid high heels to the ground*
But first – coffee.
Caffeine please! Excellent. What did people even do before Keurig’s? Measure out coffee grinds in the wee morning hours like peasants? What a dark, dark time the early 2000s must have been. It is inspiring how far we have come a society.
My favorite mug is in the dishwasher?
Why! Why did I even bother getting up this morning? Now I have to drink my coffee from a mug without a sassy (yet inspiring) comment? How are people going to know that I am going to Keep Calm and Do What Blair Waldorf Would Do?
The fact that I am still going to work after this morning is truly a testament to the incredible adult I am turning into. I am so impressive.
Maybe coffee is all I need for the day. It is too early to mess with making lunch. This is pure madness. No part of me wants to human today.
Okay. I look like a person. Kinda. I have coffee. I have pickles and some Easter gummies for lunch.
This is going to be a great day, I have decided.