Flashback to 1980

You ever just sit there on the couch, all by yourself, staring at the ceiling like it owes you money, and suddenly your brain’s like, “Hey… let’s do a full mental slideshow of every awkward, emotionally scarring, and character-building moment of your life—starting with 1980”?

Cool, same.

Now look, I wasn’t even alive in 1980, but that didn’t stop my brain from cueing up a grainy VHS montage with dramatic piano music, starting with a random baby in tube socks, surrounded by avocado-colored appliances and adults who thought margarine was health food.

And from there—boom.

We’re off.

Next slide: 1989. You’re in school with a lunchbox that smells like crushed dreams and banana. You’re wearing shorts that were never meant to exist in daylight. You think Capri Suns are currency and your biggest worry is whether your friend brought the good markers.

Fast-forward:

It’s the 90s. You’re feeling yourself. You got that starter jacket and a Walkman. You just told your entire family you were going to be a marine biologist/astronaut/lawyer, and they believed you because ambition hadn’t met student loans yet.

Then—bam—2000s hit.

You’re dodging Y2K, dealing with MySpace top 8 drama, and building character by downloading viruses from LimeWire. Your ringtone cost $1.99 and your identity was built around whether you had a Motorola Razr or a Sidekick.

And now?

Now you’re sitting on the couch in your adult pajamas (a.k.a. whatever’s clean) wondering how your life turned into a season of The Office written by anxiety.

And yet…

You’re still here.

You’ve made it through heartbreaks, layoffs, bad bangs, questionable relationships, and worse group chats. You’ve survived jobs with job descriptions like “must wear many hats” and “fast-paced environment,” which turned out to mean “you’ll be doing Karen’s job too.”

Sure, you may not be where you thought you’d be by now.

You were supposed to have a personal trainer, a wine fridge, and a career that included phrases like “thought leadership” and “international travel.”

Instead, you’re over here Googling “how to reheat lasagna without losing the will to live.”

But you know what? That’s okay.

Because you’re also wiser, tougher, and somehow funnier than the algorithm gives you credit for. You’ve turned pain into punchlines and built resilience on the ashes of “we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates.”

So the next time your brain hits rewind on your life like a rogue DJ, don’t panic.

Lean back. Laugh. Cringe.

Applaud the chaos and then say, “Dang… look at me now. Still standing. Still trying. Still hitting ‘submit’ on applications like a warrior in Wi-Fi armor.”

Because if you’ve made it this far?

You’re not just living.

You’re thriving—awkwardly, emotionally, and gloriously one pizza roll at a time.