Is this what it's like to grow up?

I've been super busy the last few months...

I spent the last 10 weeks of my life studying for the Series 7, and it slowly killed my soul. The weekend before I finally took the exam, which happened to be the weekend of two of my best friends' birthdays, I sat at home by myself and studied. When the instagrams of my friends having fun without me became too much to bear, I gave up reading about the code of arbitration procedures and popped open a bottle of cava. I don't know if it was the wine or the defeating spirit of the 7... but on this sad Friday night, I found myself crying during an episode of Say Yes to the Dress.

I think I can rule out my biological clock. I'm still pretty scarred from babysitting. All the diapers and tears, and that time a little boy decided to play hide and seek without telling me and sat quietly behind a coat in his cubby for two hours until his brothers took mercy on me and told me where he liked to hide. Yeah, I'll stick with my goldendoodles, thank you very much. Nevertheless, as tears rushed down my face when a bride, who's father was struck by lightening, found her perfect dress, I couldn't help but think, "Dear God, is this what it's like to grow up?"

I'm probably wrong. I hope I'm wrong. Grown-ups can't be reduced to snotty tears by TLC and World Wildlife Fund commercials, right?

But these emotions aren't the only change I've noticed since college. I will now voluntarily wake up at 5 a.m. on weekdays and 7 and 8 a.m. on the weekend to work out. And yes, sometimes at sunrise yoga I spend half the time in corpse pose and the other half in child's pose, but I got myself out of bed and made it there, so I'm saying it counts as a workout.

Next, after weeks of studying for (and passing!) my exam, I decided to break out of my new, sad comfort zone and actually be social. I had three glasses of wine and sushi at a house party that begun at 8 p.m., followed by beer and pizza at a bar around 1. This was a totally acceptable amount to drink based on the height-weight chart they gave us in alcohol awareness my freshman year of college. Leslie Knope would even allowed me to drive. Yet, somehow, I still woke up a 7 a.m. completely and utterly hungover. This is not some take a Motrin-eat greasy food-go out again that night hangover. This was a full-day, bedridden, agony-filled episodes.

The most troubling postgrad change is realizing that I can no longer live off diet coke and sandwiches and still fit into my skinny jeans work-appropriate pencil skirts. This revelation, along with dating a paleo dieter for a year, drove me to do some crazy things. Instead of baked potato chips, I now snack on garlicky kale chips. I nurse hangovers with yoga and juice bars. And believing the paleo-eating, crossfit-enthusiast who got me to eat healthy would be living in Baltimore and grilling out with me all summer, I signed up for a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program.

Now he's moved back to Texas, my family has moved to South Carolina, and I'm left in Baltimore. Alone. With a family-sized box of produce to finish every week. And that is my long-winded introduction to why you will see a lot of random produce themed recipes for the next 20 weeks.

Stay in school forever.