A few years ago, I graduated college, diploma in one hand, margarita in the other, completely oblivious to the shit storm that was coming my way. Here's a preview: becoming a living, breathing, job-having, bill-paying, responsible adult? Really fucking difficult.

We're romantic. We're hopeful. We're done for. The worst part of this all? The idea of struggle and compromise seems exciting to us-that's how stupid we are. There's no stopping fools, I say. We're still kids at heart. Those dreams are still there. Now we just have to go chase them.

When I god older and realized my life was built around the idea my career would be something I wanted to love, to strive for, to be proud of, I was scared.

Really, I want you to finish this book feeling like we could become friends, if the timing was right. That's it. Oh, and by the way, you should drink while you're reading this book. If you want to play a drinking game, I suggest you take a shot when you feel like I am abusing commas.

My lofty ambitions are partially due to the fact that I'm part of generation, "Yes You Can, I Guess: How about I throw a combination of money, attention, and prescription medication at the problem?

Whenever someone brings up the traits associated with being a functional human otherwise known as an "adult," I think, is this even possible for me? Probably not, is what I conclude. I mean, I'll eventually pay off my college loans at the age of forty-five by selling what's left of my liver, and I'll probably manage to find sustenance and remember to breathe oxygen constantly. I'll survive. However, for people like me...There will be years of struggle to keep myself afloat.