Ugh, millennials

I went out for breakfast with a friend the other day and watched, transfixed, as the girl at the table next to us spent a solid 10 minutes posing with her avocado toast, trying to get the perfect ‘unposed’ shot. And it didn’t end there. She then proceeded to narrate her way through lunch for her Insta stories, completely ignoring her poor friend who, admittedly, was also on her phone – and didn’t seem to care. Ugh, millennials. And I can say that, because I am one. (Actually, looking back on this now, I was so engrossed in watching this girl that I was probably ignoring my own friend. Well, this is awkward.)

Before we get into this, I want to clarify something. The general assumption seems to be that anyone under the age of 30 is a millennial – that’s not true. We’re not feckless teenagers any more: the oldest millennials are closing in on 40. They have kids, jobs, responsibilities – probably not houses, but more on that later. According to whoever makes these decisions, the generation everyone loves to hate is currently between 23 and 38 years old. So if you were born between 1981 and 1996, I have news for you: you are, technically speaking, a millennial. (Oh, the horror.)

Here’s a little cheat