The good problems to have

You’re tired, overworked, and out of oat milk. But is adult life truly that bad?

Apr 12, 2025

Adulting is scary. It’s the toughest thing you face when you grow up — or at least that’s what the Internet tells us between ads for that one journal that will magically make you more productive and ‘5 ways to make passive income in your sleep.’ But is it really that scary?

Sure you have to deal with income tax, corporate life, difficult work life balance, having to attend functions which you don’t want to, commuting to office, getting rejected from opposite gender, taking care of yourself, taking care of others, indirect taxes, washing clothes, cooking for yourself, cleaning the house, seeing everyone around you travelling to exotic places and eating foodgasmic food, not having a dressing sense or abs or a beach bod, not enough money, not getting a good person to marry, unhappy relationship, having to upskill, the uncertainty in the times of artificial intelligence, people earning tons of money doing random dumbass shit on internet, a possible next pandemic, wars, the fact that size 39 shirt is now tight for you and 40 is loose or the fact that the children in your building call you uncle or aunty, or maybe some other schmooly gamooly thing which I’ve not listed but you’re worried about.

First take a deep breath Karen. Ramesh you too.

Karen and Ramesh please calm down! Source

Now that your blood pressure is back to normal, think for a second.

Are all these problems really bad?

Let me explain.

So, I’m on a call with a friend — a solid dude. Corporate survivor. Dreams intact. Hairline mostly there. He’s looking to switch jobs. The soul-searching, LinkedIn-refreshing, life-resuscitating kind. Naturally, I ask him, ‘What are you looking for in the new role?’

He replies with the usual fantasy combo: good work, enough money to afford overpriced coffee, and mental peace — preferably all three on weekdays.

I ask, ‘But are you getting any of this in the new job?’

He doesn’t even blink. ‘Nope. But the salary’s better.’

O-k-a-y. That’s something. Wait! What?

So I throw the classic philosophical grenade: ‘What’s the point of earning if you don’t have time to spend it?’

And this man — this legend — drops a line that has since lived rent-free in my head:

‘Where and how to spend is a good problem to have.’

Honestly, I paused. Blinked twice. Took a deep breath thrice and let out a soft, thoughtful ‘damn.’

Because he was right.

Not having time to spend money is a luxury problem. It’s like crying in a Mercedes. You’re still crying, sure, but the AC is excellent, and Alcantara leather keeps your sad bum soft and plush.

The sadness everyone deserves at least once. Source

Since then, I’ve started categorizing the problems.

You’re tired of your job — but you have one, and you’re not being paid in gratitude and LinkedIn likes.
You’re single — but also not arguing over whether the ceiling fan should be at speed 3 or 5.
You’re broke because you overspent on food — but you had sushi twice this week.
You’re aging — but you can still sit cross-legged without hearing your knees file for retirement.
I have to file taxes — sucks, but it means you have income.
My fridge is too small for all my oat milk and meal prep boxes. — congratulations, you’re officially insufferable.
I don’t know what to wear to the party — but at least you’ve been invited and have more than one T-shirt with a meme on it.
I can’t decide where to go on vacation this year! Tragic. Such pain. Much sorrow.

We think our lives are disasters because we can’t decide between Himalayan pink salt and low-sodium sea salt. Because our gym playlist isn’t vibing. Because the barista misspelled our name again. (It’s Aishwarya, not Ashvarya, you oat milk amateur.)

But here’s the thing: most of these are not real problems. They’re first-world problems doing cosplay in a middle-class life.

First world problems looking at us. Source

Somewhere between our aspirations and anxieties, we forgot to be grateful for mildly annoying abundance.

Adulting isn’t a horror story. It’s a dark comedy with bills, birthday reminders, and moments of: “Wait, did I just Google how to boil eggs again?”

Sure, it’s exhausting. You have to attend functions you don’t care about, dodge questions about marriage, fight your ITR portal, keep upskilling like you’re in a video game, and act like you enjoy quinoa.

But would you rather have nothing to do? No one asking you for your opinion? No goals, no conflicts, no painfully awkward dates?

Didn’t think so.

So yeah, the next time you’re spiraling because Swiggy delivered regular Coke instead of the diet one — stop.

Take a breath. Unclench. Sip the wrong Coke. And say to yourself: