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You know you're an adult when you get scared about your mailbox. I mean, who knew bills could be so terrifying? I open it like it's a Pandora's box of financial doom.
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You know you're an adult when you hear a noise in the house at night, and instead of thinking it's a ghost, you're convinced it's your refrigerator whispering sweet nothings about snacks.
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You know you're an adult when you start panicking about your plants. It's a whole new level of responsibility. I water them, talk to them, and sometimes even apologize for forgetting their names. I'm practically their therapist.
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I'm not afraid of commitment, but have you ever tried assembling IKEA furniture? It's like they want you to prove your loyalty through a series of confusing pictograms and Allen wrench acrobatics.
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I'm not afraid of ghosts; I'm afraid of the ghosting that happens in group chats. You pour your heart out, hit send, and then it's just crickets. I didn't sign up for a digital séance!
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I'm not saying I'm afraid of commitment, but have you ever tried closing the "Are you sure you want to update now?" pop-up? It's like breaking up with your computer for a newer model.
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I'm not afraid of the dark; I'm afraid of stepping on a Lego in the dark. It's like a miniature landmine waiting to explode under my foot, turning me into a midnight gymnast.
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I'm not afraid of spiders; I'm afraid of the judgment they cast when they catch me dancing like nobody's watching while cleaning the house. It's like they're the tiny arachnid judges of my personal embarrassment court.
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Does anyone else get nervous when someone says, "We need to talk"? I mean, can't we just communicate via interpretive dance or charades? It would save me a lot of anxiety.
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