>"Your 20s don’t have to be the “best time of your life.”" This is the time of your life,” the nurse said to me as she searched for a vein. At 27, I finally had health insurance and could get the colonoscopy that doctors had been suggesting for years, so I was feeling pretty good about things—as good as one can feel after having spent the previous 12 hours in the bathroom. But she wasn’t referring to the procedure; she was talking about my age. Even at this very odd, very vulnerable moment, I represented to her freedom and opportunity—your 20s, supposedly the time of your life.