Welcome to the Dumpster Fire: A Self-Help Book for People Who Hate Self-Help

“For anyone who’s ever cried in a Target parking lot, argued with a chatbot, or googled ‘how to human’ at 3 AM.”

Why This Book is a Terrible Idea

“Congratulations! By opening this book, you’ve already made a life choice worse than that time you tried to DIY bangs. Let’s begin.”

Chapter List

1. How to Adult (Spoiler: You Can’t)

2. Time Travel for Beginners (Rewinding That Email You Sent Drunk)

3. The Starbucks of Lost Souls: Ordering a Latte in a Dying Economy

4. How to Start a Cult (Oops, I Mean ‘Side Hustle’)

5. Surviving the Group Chat Apocalypse

6. Dating in the Metaverse (Your Avatar Has More Game Than You)

7. The 7 Types of Burnout (And Which One You’ll Post on LinkedIn)

8. NFTs for People Who Miss Tamagotchis

9. The Algorithmic Food Pyramid (50% Coffee, 30% Impulse Buys)

10. How to Silence Your Inner Karen (Using Only a Kazoo)

11. The IRS of Alternate Realities (They Accept Souls & Crypto)

12. How to Fake a Personality (For Job Interviews & Funerals)

13. The Funeral of All Possible Futures (RSVP Required)

14. Surviving Family Gatherings (A Crash Course in Time Travel)

15. Memes That Murder (A Case Study in Viral Regret)

16. The Influencer’s Guide to Existential Cancellation

17. Building a Time Machine (Using Duct Tape & Regret)

18. Why Your Childhood Teddy Bear is Plotting Against You

19. How to Die Ironically (And Other Intermediate Life Skills)

20. The Last Joke in the Universe (Spoiler: It’s You)

How to Pretend This Book Helped You

“Print this page, frame it, and tell your therapist you’re ‘cured.’ You’re welcome.”

Final Pitch:

This isn’t a book—it’s a cathartic scream into the void, disguised as your funniest friend. It’s for anyone who’s ever thought, “Adulting is a glitch, and I didn’t sign up for this beta test.” Now go forth, fail spectacularly, and please leave a 5-star review.

Prologue:

Let’s get one thing straight: this book is not going to save you. It’s not going to fix your life, your credit score, or your inability to fold a fitted sheet. If you’re looking for actual advice, you’re in the wrong place. This is not a self-help book. This is a self-hurt book. It’s a mirror held up to your chaotic existence, and it’s laughing at you. But don’t worry—you’ll laugh too, because if you don’t, you’ll cry. And we’ve all cried enough in Target parking lots to last a lifetime.

Here’s the deal: life is a dumpster fire. And not one of those small, contained dumpster fires that you can put out with a fire extinguisher. No, this is a full-blown, raging inferno of chaos, regret, and unanswered emails. You’re standing in the middle of it, holding a bucket labeled “hope,” but the bucket has a hole in it, and honestly, you’re not even sure where the nearest water source is. That’s where this book comes in. It’s not here to put out the fire—it’s here to hand you a marshmallow and say, “Hey, at least we can make s’mores while the world burns.”

This book is for anyone who’s ever googled “how to human” at 3 AM. It’s for anyone who’s ever argued with a chatbot, cried over a canceled Netflix show, or tried to explain their job to their parents using only Star Wars metaphors. It’s for anyone who’s ever felt like they’re failing at adulting, only to realize that adulting is just a made-up concept invented by people who probably also don’t know how to fold a fitted sheet.

But here’s the thing: you’re not alone. We’re all in this dumpster fire together. And while we can’t fix it, we can at least make it funny. That’s what this book is—a survival guide for the modern age, written by someone who’s just as lost as you are. It’s a collection of absurd advice, existential musings, and interactive quizzes that will make you laugh, cry, and question every life choice that led you to this moment.

So, what can you expect from this book? Well, for starters, you’ll learn how to fake adulthood (spoiler: you can’t), how to rewind that email you sent drunk (time travel for beginners), and how to survive the group chat apocalypse (hint: weaponized GIFs are your best friend). You’ll explore the Starbucks of Lost Souls, where your barista knows you’ll die alone, and you’ll discover the 7 types of burnout (and which one you’ll post on LinkedIn). You’ll even learn how to start a cult—oops, I mean side hustle—and how to survive family gatherings without losing your mind.

But most importantly, you’ll learn that it’s okay to not have it all figured out. In fact, it’s more than okay—it’s normal. Life is messy, chaotic, and often ridiculous, and the sooner you embrace the chaos, the sooner you can start enjoying the ride. Or at least laughing at it.

So, grab a cup of coffee (or wine, no judgment), settle in, and prepare to laugh, cry, and maybe even learn a thing or two. Just don’t take it too seriously—after all, this book is a terrible idea, and so are you. Welcome to the dumpster fire. Let’s make some s’mores.

“This book is the lovechild of a panic attack and a caffeine high. 10/10, cried while laughing.”

— Karen, Probably

Chapter 1: How to Adult (Spoiler: You Can’t)

Introduction: The Myth of Adulthood

Let’s start with a hard truth: adulthood is a scam. It’s a pyramid scheme sold to us by people who probably also don’t know how to change a tire or file their taxes correctly. You were promised stability, wisdom, and a sense of purpose. Instead, you got existential dread, a crippling fear of your inbox, and the sudden realization that you have no idea how to cook a chicken.

But don’t worry—this chapter is here to help you fake it. Because that’s what adulting really is: a never-ending performance where you pretend to know what you’re doing while secretly Googling “how to unclog a toilet” at 2 AM. Spoiler alert: you’ll never actually feel like an adult. But with a little humor, a lot of caffeine, and this guide, you can at least look like one.

Section 1: The 7 Stages of Adulting Grief

Adulting is a lot like grief. You start with denial, move through anger, and eventually end up at acceptance—or, more accurately, resignation. Here’s a breakdown of the 7 Stages of Adulting Grief, complete with relatable examples, memes, and interactive elements to help you cope.

1. Denial

“I don’t need to meal prep. I’ll just order takeout every night. It’s fine.”

This is the stage where you convince yourself that you don’t need to adult. You’ll ignore your bills, avoid your responsibilities, and live in blissful ignorance until reality hits you like a freight train.

• Interactive Quiz: Are You in Denial?

o Do you think “adulting” is something other people do?

o Have you ever said, “I’ll deal with it later,” knowing full well you won’t?

o Do you believe that your credit score is just a number and doesn’t really matter?

If you answered yes to any of these, congratulations! You’re in denial. Welcome to the club.

2. Anger

“WHY IS MY CREDIT SCORE SO LOW? I PAID MY NETFLIX SUBSCRIPTION ON TIME!”

This is the stage where you rage against the machine—or, more accurately, against your student loan provider. You’ll yell at customer service bots, curse the universe, and maybe throw a stapler at the wall.

• Pro Tip: Channel your anger into something productive, like writing a strongly worded email to your internet provider. Just don’t hit send. Or do. Either way, it’s cathartic.

3. Bargaining

“If I just work 80 hours this week, maybe I can afford that avocado toast AND rent.”

This is the stage where you try to negotiate with the universe. You’ll make deals with yourself, your boss, and your bank account, only to realize that the universe doesn’t care about your problems.

• Interactive Flowchart: What Should You Bargain For?

o Are you behind on rent? → Beg your landlord for an extension.

o Are you out of coffee? → Trade your soul for a latte.

o Are you just generally overwhelmed? → Promise to be a better person if the universe cuts you a break.

4. Depression

“I’m just going to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling until my problems go away.”

This is the stage where you give up. You’ll cry in the shower, eat an entire pizza by yourself, and wonder why no one warned you about how hard this would be.

• Playlist for Your Existential Crisis:

o “Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M.

o “Creep” by Radiohead

o “All by Myself” by Celine Dion

o Bonus Track: “Despacito” (because why not?)

5. Credit Card Debt

“I’ll just put it on my card and deal with it later. Future me’s problem!”

This is the stage where you make terrible financial decisions in an attempt to feel better. Spoiler: it doesn’t work.

• Interactive Calculator: How Much Debt Are You In?

o Enter your credit card balance: $_________

o Enter your monthly income: $_________

o Enter your will to live: $_________

o Result: You’re screwed. But hey, at least you have that new pair of shoes, right?

6. Resignation

“I guess this is my life now. Whatever.”

This is the stage where you accept that adulting is a never-ending cycle of disappointment and regret. You’ll stop fighting it and just go with the flow, like a leaf drifting down a river of existential dread.

• Pro Tip: Embrace the chaos. Life is a dumpster fire, but at least it’s warm.

7. Memes

“At least I can laugh about it on Twitter.”

This is the final stage, where you turn your pain into content. You’ll post memes about your struggles, laugh at other people’s misfortunes, and find solace in the fact that we’re all in this dumpster fire together.

• Meme Template:

o Top Text: “When you realize adulting is just gaslighting yourself into thinking you have control.”

o Bottom Text: “But at least there’s wine.”

Section 2: The DIY “I’m a Real Person” Checklist

Adulting is all about checking boxes. Did you pay your taxes? Check. Did you cry in IKEA? Check. Did you forget your own birthday? Double check. Here’s a handy checklist to help you fake your way through adulthood:

1. Pay Your Taxes (or at least pretend to)

Taxes are like a horror movie—terrifying, confusing, and full of jump scares. But don’t worry, you don’t actually have to understand them. Just hire someone who does, or use an app, or close your eyes and hope for the best.

• Interactive Guide: How to Fake Your Way Through Tax Season

o Step 1: Gather all your receipts.

o Step 2: Panic.

o Step 3: Hire someone to do it for you.

o Step 4: Cry when you realize how much you owe.

2. Cry in Public (preferably at IKEA)

Nothing says “adult” like sobbing in the middle of a furniture store because you can’t figure out how to assemble a bookshelf. Bonus points if you do it while holding a meatball.

• Pro Tip: If anyone asks if you’re okay, just say, “I’m fine,” and continue crying. They’ll understand.

3. Forget Your Own Birthday

Real adults are too busy with responsibilities to remember their own birthdays. If you remember yours, you’re doing it wrong.

• Interactive Quiz: How Adult Are You?

o Do you remember your own birthday? → Not an adult.

o Do you remember your pet’s birthday but not your own? → Adulting pro.

4. Argue with a Chatbot

Nothing makes you feel more like an adult than yelling at a machine that doesn’t care about your problems. Bonus points if you threaten to cancel a subscription you don’t even use.

• Pro Tip: If the chatbot says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that,” just type “LET ME SPEAK TO A HUMAN” in all caps. It won’t work, but it’s cathartic.

5. Google “How to Human” at 3 AM

We’ve all been there. Whether you’re trying to figure out how to unclog a drain or how to make small talk at a party, Googling basic life skills is a rite of passage.

• Interactive List: Top 10 Things You’ve Googled at 3 AM

o How to unclog a toilet.

o How to fold a fitted sheet.

o How to make friends as an adult.

o How to fake a British accent.

o How to survive a bear attack.

o How to survive a family gathering.

o How to explain NFTs to your parents.

o How to stop crying in public.

o How to adult.

o How to stop Googling things at 3 AM.

6. Eat an Entire Pizza by Yourself

Adulthood is about balance. Sometimes you meal prep, and sometimes you eat an entire pizza in one sitting while watching reruns of The Office. Both are valid.

• Pro Tip: If anyone judges you for eating an entire pizza, just say, “It’s self-care.” They’ll back off.

7. Pretend to Like Wine

Nothing says “adult” like pretending to enjoy a drink that tastes like fermented regret. Bonus points if you use words like “oaky” and “full-bodied” to describe it.

• Interactive Wine Tasting Guide:

o Swirl the wine.

o Sniff the wine.

o Pretend to taste notes of blackberry and despair.

o Drink the whole bottle because adulting is hard.

Section 3: The Art of Faking It

Let’s be real: no one actually knows what they’re doing. We’re all just faking it until we make it—or until we die, whichever comes first. Here are some tips to help you fake your way through adulthood:

1. Nod and Smile

When someone says something you don’t understand, just nod and smile. It works in meetings, at family gatherings, and during conversations with your landlord.

• Pro Tip: If you’re really lost, throw in a thoughtful “Hmm” or “Interesting.” It buys you time to Google what they’re talking about later.

2. Use Buzzwords

If you don’t know what you’re talking about, just throw in some buzzwords like “synergy,” “disruption,” or “low-hanging fruit.” People will think you’re smart, even if you have no idea what you’re saying.

• Interactive Buzzword Generator:

o “We need to leverage our core competencies to drive synergy across verticals.”

o “Let’s disrupt the paradigm and think outside the box.”

o “The low-hanging fruit here is to optimize our KPIs.”

3. Blame Technology

If you mess something up, just blame it on technology. “Sorry, my email didn’t go through” is the adult version of “the dog ate my homework.”

• Pro Tip: If you’re really in a bind, say, “It must be a glitch in the system.” No one will question it.

4. Carry a Notebook

Nothing says “I have my life together” like carrying a notebook. It doesn’t matter if you never write in it—just the act of carrying one will make people think you’re organized.

• Pro Tip: Write random things in your notebook like “buy milk” or “call mom.” It adds to the illusion.

5. Pretend to Be Busy

If you don’t want to do something, just say you’re busy. Bonus points if you sigh dramatically and say, “I wish I had time for that, but…”

• Pro Tip: Always have a fake meeting on your calendar. It’s the perfect excuse to avoid anything you don’t want to do.

Section 4: Interactive Quiz—Are You Even Trying?

Let’s end this chapter with a little self-reflection. Take this quiz to find out how well you’re faking adulthood:

1. How often do you cry in public?

a) Never. I’m a robot.

b) Only at IKEA.

c) Daily. It’s my cardio.

2. What’s your go-to excuse for being late?

a) Traffic.

b) My dog ate my alarm clock.

c) I was busy Googling “how to adult.”

3. How do you handle taxes?

a) I hire a professional.

b) I close my eyes and hope for the best.

c) What are taxes?

4. What’s your favorite wine?

a) Pinot Noir.

b) Whatever’s on sale.

c) I don’t drink wine. I drink regret.

5. How do you feel about avocado toast?

a) It’s overpriced but delicious.

b) It’s the reason I can’t afford a house.

c) What’s avocado toast?

Scoring:

• Mostly A’s: You’re doing great! Keep faking it.

• Mostly B’s: You’re a mess, but at least you’re trying.

• Mostly C’s: You’re not even pretending to adult. Congratulations, you’re winning at life.

Conclusion: Welcome to the Dumpster Fire

Congratulations! You’ve made it through Chapter 1. You’ve laughed, you’ve cried, and you’ve probably realized that you’re even more of a mess than you thought. But don’t worry—that’s the point. Adulting isn’t about being perfect. It’s about embracing the chaos, laughing at your mistakes, and pretending you know what you’re doing even when you don’t.

So go forth, fake it till you make it, and remember: you’re not alone. We’re all in this dumpster fire together. Now go eat some pizza and cry about it. You’ve earned it.

________________________________________

Next Up: Chapter 2—Time Travel for Beginners (Rewinding That Email You Sent Drunk). Spoiler: you can’t. But we’ll pretend you can.

For the rest of the book, drop me a message.