Wine and cookies: the official meal of "the struggle is real."

As a generation, the 20-somethings have made strides in systematically putting off nearly all forms of adulthood. We’re underemployed and living at home in record numbers, but thankfully the good folks over at Vivino and Marie Claire have developed a Girl Scout cookie and wine pairing guide to match our nutritionally deficient, diabetes-inducing lifestyles. It’s now easier than ever for us to drink and comfort eat our way through the cyclical woe of an economy and larger infrastructure that seemingly has no place for us or our Bachelor’s Degrees.

Cookies and lemonade: the offical meal of over-budget job fairs with meager snack offerings for a meager talent pool. Play off this struggle with the above combination of sadness cookies and citrusy … citrusy … whatever that name is. If you don’t feel like fumbling through that sentence of a name with the judgey employees at Whole Foods, some Franzia "Crisp White Wine" will do. Plus, unlike "roero arneis," it comes in a box, which you can subsequently use as an auxiliary trash can once the garbage starts to overflow.

True story: you love peanut butter Do-Si-Dos because you are an adult child, but all that nutty butter gets stuck to your soft palate when you try to anger-eat a sleeve of them. Sweet, nutty Zinfandel will help you unstick it, saving you time and mental anguish so you can get back to blankly staring at photos of your now-married ex.

A Bandol pairs nicely with this little guy. A few glugs later, we’ll feel like a cultured member of high society, or just a functioning member of society in general as you try not to have a mental breakdown while watching your highly regrettable and overdue Red Box selection, The Last Witch Hunter starring Vin Diesel, next to the space heater.

One of the lighter, more approachable reds, pinot noir pairs nicely with cranberries, one of the lighter more approachable "healthy" foods your mom sends you emails about. "Eat cranberries to improve your brain health honey," she tells you in an email, signing off with "Love, Mom," like you didn't know it was from her. You can't wait until she deposits your monthly allowance in your bank account.

Bordeaux would be nice, but a Merlot will suffice. Currently clad in splotchy sweatpants, two different socks and knitting the never-ending scarf to ‘The Bachelor’ our current temperament could best be described as ‘pococurante’ so pass the bottle of whatever that was, throw in a silly straw and keep the Rah-Rahs coming. Thanks.

A cheap Rioja is what doctors everywhere prescribe to help forget about the specter of perpetually fading, invaluable wasted youth. The tannins will help activate the papillae and invigorate the palate, and once you hit them with that rich, toasty combination of chocolate and coconut, you're good as sedate. We dare you to long existentially for your childhood or Craiglist part-time jobs with that power-packed combo of Spanish red and some diabetic's nightmare delivered to you by a 10-year-old with more drive and motivation than you have in your right nipple.

Sancerre cuts through all the Savannah Smiles' bullshit, stripping down its outer facade to expose the barely-beating heart-of-a-monster within.

On certain nights, Easy Mac represents an actual adult dinner and thusly a half box of Tagalongs and a nightcap bottle of  wine constitutes as the ‘dessert’ course. Amarone is a great friend to the Tagalong, complimenting it's intense chocolate flavor with a dry, tannic earthiness. This reminds you that of something else dry and earthy: the un-watered plants in your apartment you bought during your Christmas money surplus, the likes of which are slowly dying along with your resolve and facial collagen.

The versatile Thin Mint works with an array of wines, which is the perfect excuse to finish off all of those half bottles which have turned into fruit fly live art installations. Brunello, cabernet, Zinfadel are fine choices. We’re pretty sure Livingston makes a Cab under $5. A few glasses later, we’ll be exponentially less bummed after putting that half-demolished box of cookies into that glaringly nutrient deficient freezer. Yeah, there’s no chance whatsoever that we’ll eat the entire box in one sitting as we numbly masticate through the rising action of ElimiDate re-runs.

We can relate to the minimalist charm of the plain shortbread cookie. We’ve chosen a similar simple, austere lifestyle for ourselves: our cramped apartment, our multifunctional milk crate bookshelf, that still un-packed suitcase of luggage from your vacation last summer. The elementary nature of the plain shortbread cookies calls for an equally minimalist wine, like a Riesling. We wouldn’t want to complicate the palate, now. The unfussy combination mirrors your unfussy blow-up bed in all the right ways, reminding you that the simple life, one without lasting possessions or relationships, is the one for you. Adieu.