Being an adult is exhausting if you’re not rich.

I’m awake 18 hours a day and somehow none of them are mine. If I want to eat decently or live in a clean space, I’m constantly cooking, cleaning, doing laundry. It never ends. I feel like Sisyphus pushing responsibility uphill forever.

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Having a kid doesn’t help, not because of the child, but because society isn’t built for working parents. Work is 9–5. School is 7:30–2. Aftercare ends at 5. Summer camps run on fantasy schedules.

I’m always working, parenting, or maintaining survival. When do I live?

I’m stable. I’m lucky. And I’m still exhausted. My brain feels like Swiss cheese. And the world is falling apart on top of it all.

Is this really it?

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