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You are on the “poor-but-not-losing-weight” meal plan, which essentially consists of pancakes, cereal, and obscene amounts of pasta.

Rather than setting up your own plan, you test your hacking abilities by spending hours trying to remember what your neighbor named their cat and guessing the year they were born in.

You’ve got a one-glass limit when out to dinner so you take the classy route by taking a bottle of 12 dollar Barefoot to the face before you head out.

You don’t even remember what a real Oreo tastes like anymore, instead you’re cheating on Nabisco with their less-hot cousin, Borios.

Get a little blood drawn? Pee in a cup? A little electo-shock therapy? No big deal if it means you might get to go on Spring Break this year. Who cares if you look like Sloth from the Goonies on those white sand beaches!

Your dish soap bottle is primarily water and bubbles at this point, and your hair feels like a horse’s tail with the highly uneven ratio of conditioner to water left.

Spending the day cleaning and blocking out the fact that you did a Cher impression the night before is the worth the pain when you open your fridge to a glorious, yet eclectic, collection of leftover alcohol. You’ll be left with one decent craft beer, a gross amount of Bud Light, and at least one flavored vodka that smells like a Real Housewife of New Jersey.

You realize quickly in your adulthood how right Grammy had it all along when she spent hours cutting coupons. It really is the little things in life that make you happy, like two for one jars of olives; because no one really needs that many olives, but it just feels so right.

Steak? Chicken? Fish? Forget it. With the exception of the occasional meal out or hot dog, you find yourself nostalgic for the days when your parents fed you and represented every food group.

You sure as hell aren’t paying for premium cable, so brush up on your Spanish and fall into the heated love affair of Ricardo, Maria, and Maria’s twin sister with a multiple personality disorder.

Unfortunately, your parents find your chicken-scratch, homemade, birthday cards less endearing and more depressing in your old age. You attempt to transition into more mature card-making by tossing out the glitter pens.

You either end up looking like Rapunzel’s scraggly sister, or Scarlett Johansson when she had that mullet thing going on.

You pride yourself on never buying workout or sleeping clothes. Instead, you rock your college’s spirit week shirt or serve as the number one fan for the new hummus brand that was at the local farmer’s market last week.

You should never shop hungry and you’re going to pay for it anyway, right? Who will really notice if you eat half a pound of grapes before you go to check out?

Unfortunately, in adulthood packing your lunch is way less cool. There are no “tradesies,” and you will probably be surrounded by people eating cool organic food in colorful containers while you brown paper bag your spaghetti-O’s.