Ah, the realities of adulthood—according to a recent study, life apparently gets “real” by the age of 27. Now, I’m not sure what they mean by “real,” because I was pretty convinced things were real at 8 and again at 17. But if they’re talking about when you start feeling like an adult, well, 27 makes sense. By then, many people have moved out, advanced a bit in their career, maybe even found someone special.
For me, 27 was the year I got married, bought a house, and got a dog. So yeah, things seemed pretty real. Yet, my parents still pay for my Netflix, so you tell me—how “real” is it actually? I guess adulting is a little more flexible than they let on.
