Lemonada.

I hated my 20s.

So hard.

So much.

I can't believe that now, at 31, I'm saying,

you know what I miss?

My 20s.

And yet here we are. I'm I hated my 20s, okay?

Hated those motherfuckers.

They sucked ass so hard.

Like, I just could not believe how bad my 20s were.

It felt like I'd get hit by a truck and then I'd like be getting up, just like brushing myself off, getting up, and then I'd be hit by another truck.

My mom died when I was 21, just like straight out, set that decade on fire right off

the bat.

My beloved dog Fred died. My grandfather died,

like just profound personal losses on top of I was dropped by my agency once I had told

them that I was quitting acting, which really just showed how much they believed in me as a,

as a writer I

was trying to become. I also, I spent half my 20s drunk off my ass, puke in 10 times a day,

in friendships that had expired. It was just shit on shit on shit. All while I'm hearing that it's

supposed to be my best years, all while I'm hearing, oh God, those those are the, those are the fun ones, those are your best years. God, what I would give to be in my 20s, the things that people say. Nobody was out here going like, hey, your 20s suck ass. So brace yourself. Nobody was going, hey, you're going to be so lost and confused, only to be more lost and confused

six months from now and wonder when it gets better and then surprise it doesn't.

...