Nothing makes you feel quite so much as if you were perpetrating a grand and encompassing deception as buying your first house. Above is the window seat of mine. And honestly, I cannot believe they let me sign my name to a contract for this sucker. I am a MINOR! I am in need of ADULT SUPERVISION! Never mind that I am THIRTY!
It's a threadbare question, but when, exactly, does one start feeling like an adult?