This is a new take on a traditional family recipe updated for the Millenial generation. With the unique taste of Y2K and social justice awareness, this recipe is sure to confuse and disappoint parents and authority figures alike. This is a rustic-style recipe, so don’t worry about exact measurements or the general integrity of the final product. Perfect for bringing to parties you want to leave immediately! 

INGREDIENTS:

1/2  cup parental safety net 

3/4 cup high expectations 

2 tbsp. family history of mental illness 

5/8 stick of trauma (if trauma comes with PTSD, add 1 cup to anxiety) 

3 cups anxiety 

1 undergraduate degree in liberal arts  

3 tbsp. existential dread 

3 cups manic depression 

1/2 tsp. codependency 

recreational and prescribed drugs (various, feel free to experiment!)  

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. In the womb, mix parental safety net, family history of mental illness, and high expectations. Set date to 1992 and place mixture into period of rapid technological advancement and general social unrest. Set aside and let rise until puberty.  
2. At ages 14 and 15 begin adding in the trauma, mixing until human is hardened but brittle. 
3. Separate 1/3 of the mixture and add the anxiety. Spread thinly into high school and sprinkle generously with recreational drugs. This will be your base layer. Set aside. 
4. When the rest of your mixture has reached age 16 add the undergraduate degree in liberal arts and existential dread. The human should now have more questions than answers. 
5. Add the remaining trauma at age 17. (This may make the human too fragile to remain in one piece, this is ok.)
6. Fold in one prescription drug.
7. Gather 1/2 of the remaining mixture and add the manic depression. Pour into crowded college-town house. Add a generous dusting of recreational drugs on this layer, and set aside. This is layer 2. 
8. Scoop the remaining mixture into an overpriced studio apartment in a major city. Mash in some more of the recreational drugs until a loose mound forms. Top with a new prescription drug. This is layer 3. 
9. Stack the layers and carefully transfer the human to a false start at a career (we recommend real estate.)
10. After 1 half-hearted attempt, quickly remove the human and transfer to graduate school. 
11. Watch carefully; at the first signs of difficulty remove human from graduate school, add a new prescription drug, and place back into overpriced studio apartment to cool. (Optional: repeat step 9 a few more times with forays into administrative roles, the arts, etc.) 
12. Dust finished human with codependency to taste (I personally like to add enough to ruin close relationships) and decorate with remaining recreational and prescription drugs. 

Store in a place with strong WiFi and limited social interaction. Remember, your human’s existence is temporary and ultimately meaningless, so serve sparingly. Or liberally. It doesn’t matter. 



Chloe Jordan is a writer from Southern California. A clinically uncomfortable person from the most comfortable place on the planet, Chloe writes through the lens of personal experience in an attempt to craft feeling and logic into meaning. You can find their online presence on Twitter @chloeeejordan