Older generations love to tell us how little we know. They love to tell us that we all expect to be given everything, right now. But how can we expect to be given everything, right now, when we don’t even know what we want?! Some of us. Just. Aren’t. Ready. (#sorrynotsorry?)

1. You still live with your parents.

“Yeah, but I just need to save up enough money…” “I’m just about to go away so there’s no point…” Let’s face it, life at home is amaze. There’s a magical list in the kitchen upon which you write things, and they appear in the fridge a few days later (alongside leftovers that prevent you from ever having to cook). There are pets (aka bff life companions) that you only have half a responsibility of. There’s a magical basket into which you toss dirty clothes… You get the gist. You’re not ready to adult if you don’t shop, clean or pay for your food and housing. Soz.

2. Fuckboys/girls and the pursuit of them still takes up 50% of your time.

Procrasti-tuning is your favourite hobby, besides the gym, and/or all other activities that centre around attracting said fuckboys/fuckgirls. You don’t even really like fuckboys (also known as fucksticks, assholes, jerks and Wastes of Space on this Earth), you just want some validation that doesn’t come from your best friend. You have not yet figured out how to attract nice boys/girls, so you continue to hang out with fucksticks, and complain about it. R e a l   M a t u r e   B r a d l e y . I don’t care if you’re in the middle of a massive merger at work, if you’re sending Snapchats under the meeting table to five different girls, you’re just an overgrown child.

3. You don’t make phone calls and collect surnames instead of phone numbers.

Ever meet someone and have them hand you their phone with their notes/Facebook open so you can pump in your full name, ready for their morning-after stalk? This happened to me on the weekend. I politely elbowed them in the ribs and put my phone number directly into their contacts instead.

Adults send a text rather than a Facebook inbox, and even better, make a phone call instead of sending a text message. Aforementioned person hasn’t rung yet, so my blatant old-school method must have frightened them, and they must not be ready to adult…. Either that or, refer to point #2 (nice guy or fuckboy? Take your pick, I clearly cannot tell).

4. It hits FriYAY and instead of settling for a few after-work wines, you get shit-faced in your fancy work attire and write off your free Saturday.

You may have secured that post-grad job, but the 9-5 continues to hit you for a six, and by midday Monday you’re sitting at your desk reminiscing on your uni days, when you definitely still would have been asleep right now. Come Friday, that itch needs scratching, and you’re overwhelmed with the desire to get WGW.

The second part to this one is having to fight the urge to go dancing on a Sunday night, when you know you have work the next morning.

Potential solution:

1. Save up your annual leave days.
2. Take an annual leave day, every Monday.

Sound clever? It’s not. You’re just not ready to adult.

5. You’re not saving for a house, you’re saving for your escape.

No long description necessary; you just want to shirk your responsibilities, and get the fuck out of this town, yet only have a vague notion of where that plane should take you. That’s not very responsible, you quitter, you. It’s probably a good idea however, if you want to save those around you from your constant, pestering immaturity. Fuck the lemons and bail.

6. At some point in the past fortnight, you’ve eaten breakfast foods for dinner. 
Cereal and eggs and smoothies are great. Entree =  Muesli. Mains = Omelette. BOOM.

But technically, in adult terms, this is illegal meal behaviour.

Your nanna wouldn’t be impressed.

7. You admire people with their shit together in the same way you might admire a mother of five. 

I see what you did there, and I’m impressed, but I just don’t… I can’t… How did you do that?

8. You’ve lived long enough to know who you… Aren’t. 

Your age is substantial enough to know a few things about yourself. You have some beliefs, attitudes and behaviours, but they are constantly evolving. There are so many options, it can be difficult to narrow it down and figure out who precisely your adult self is going to be.

Trial and error is the only means, and you’re slowly getting there. So far you’ve discovered that harem pants are itchy so you can’t be a hippie, white collar work makes you lonely, you don’t support the Coalition, and you are not suited to a Buddhist lifestyle.

Well… That’s good. You’re getting there. Just keep at it.

It’s hard to adult. Some people choose to embrace it when it works to their favour, but run from it when someone mentions babies or health cover. These are fence sitters. You’re allowed to sit on the fence, these days. I think you should sit there as long as you like… Until that picket up the butt gets too much and you fall over to the dark side, crying adult tears as you buy Life Insurance over the phone, sitting in your court shoes and pant suit inside your silver sedan.

You have your whole life to adult; you can either fake it til you make it, or enjoy taking it slowly. Let’s be honest, if you rush it, your mid-life crisis is going to be that much worse.