This post was inspired by a phone chat I had with my cousin Becky last night. We actually were meant to be quickly touching base on weekend plans, but it turned into a chat about "being twenty-something" so quickly and seamlessly I'm not sure how it even happened. But it was good.

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In your twenties....

• You cut friends off and become absolutely content with making no new friends (he's a wise one that Drake). It gets to the point where if someone outside your 'core' group cancels dinner plans at the last minute, you're actually super happy about it. Why do we all pretend we want to hang out with everyone in the first place? We don't. 

• Having 'no money' means you really have NONE and are in danger of a phone call from the bank. It's not like you can borrow off your Mum/Dad because firstly you're not cute enough to get your own way anymore, and secondly, since you moved out they spend their money on having a better social life than you. 

• Real-life serious chats start to happen about engagements, weddings and babies. Most of the weird / quiet geeks in your year at school are already married and good grief some are on baby number TWO. I mean, you had always suspected they might be lesbian back in the day, so it all makes for really interesting (demoralising) Facebook stalking.

• Stress-related illnesses prove themselves to be a very real thing and yet registering with your local doctor is such a Saturday-morning-chore that you still haven't actually got round to it. Weird dry skin rash? Oh, that will be stress triggered. Regular pounding migraines? Chronic fatigue? Yes, you are one intensely stressed out human, even if you don't consciously recognise it.

• Your favourite clubs seem to be quite literally overrun with kids. How can these youths be over 18? THEY LOOK LIKE THEY COULD BE YOUR CHILDREN. It's a really sad time when someone comes up to you at the bar, drunk on WKD (or whatever they drink these days) and say they think they remember you being in the 6th form when they first started secondary school. The brutal fact here is that the dinky, timid, scrawny little year 7's are now 19 years old. NINETEEN.

• Previously ignored parts of your body start to really let you down. Wrinkles around the eyes are normal, expected and pretty manageable with illuminator and anti-wrinkle cream. Loose, thin skin on the back of your hands, saggy knees, burst veins and wiry grey hairs are really unnecessary until at least 30 but you're sure (and panicking) that things are a-changing too fast.

• Lying to yourself is a daily ritual. Lies such as "I'll do some exercise today" or "This week I won't eat any junk food" are absolutely a waste of time and you're not even sure you believe it in the moment.  You quickly conclude that diets are boring and just not very 'you', super skinny girls just can't have experienced puberty yet and that being 'bubbly' (see: chubby) is your best trait. No one is ready for this jelly.

• Transitioning from 'seeing someone' or 'casually texting' to being official is confusing, daunting and complicated. The Chat (that has to happen to move things on) never quite manages to happen for so many of us and, unlike the golden years of school relationships, you can't just drop a note on their desk mid-lesson saying "will you be my boyfriend". Everyone older has baggage and everyone younger 'isn't ready'. Add Tinder perverts and social media stalkers into the mix and the whole 'dating game' becomes one big headache.