Op-ed: I’m not living in my parent’s garage. I’m in my Cottagecore Shedmaxxing Era.

Though I had long planned to live in my parents’ two-car garage after graduation, a 15-second TikTok clip recently inspired me to change my ways. I’m no longer living in a garage: I’m in my tiny-home whimsical bungalow aesthetic era!

If I were living in my parents’ garage, there probably would be cars or junk cluttering my living space. In my “Oasis,” however, I boast a fully-functional 2007 Honda Civic centerpiece and priceless vintage heirlooms like a stack of 20 legal pads and a Tupperware filled with beads.

The best part of being on the nook n’ cranny wave is the community. Nothing sparks joy quite like being called for supper with mummy and daddy. The worst part is probably the convoluted timeshare agreement; mummy and daddy convinced me to sign a twelve-month perpetual timeshare contract for my abode, which means I pay more than my colleagues with apartments and have fewer rights than my colleagues who are unhoused. There’s no expiration and no way out, but on the bright side, if things get too dismal I can always just move into my she-shed in the Lowe’s parking lot.