Tomorrow, I turn 26. Just to reiterate: twenty-six! For a long time, this was the number I feared. To me, 30 has always been a comforting age (that’s when I’ll have my shit together) and 21 never seemed particularly special. But 26 was the start of my late twenties—it’s when the post-college messiness goes from being cute to a little worrisome. It meant I would have to stop freelancing, stop hitching a ride on my parents health insurance, and start figuring out how to obtain a “real” job. Fortunately, I’ve been a little ahead of schedule. Last year, I managed to find a really great nine-to-five position at Dispatch Magazine. This job enabled me to move up to Maine, live in Portland, visit cities and towns throughout the state, share my writing with a new audience, and make some of the best friends I’ve ever had.
But now it’s time for a change. On Monday, I start my new job at Maine Media Collective. I’ll be working as the online editor for Maine Magazine and Maine Home & Design, and I couldn’t be more excited. I’ve realized that I am still too green to be in charge of an entire office. I need to learn from those above me. I want to improve my writing and expand my skills. I want to become better, not stagnate (and I was afraid I was becoming too unimaginative in my old position).
Leaving all the weird number stress aside (on a side note, is there any symbol more stress-inducing than a number? Scales, grades, ages, and fees. All numbers. Words are so much kinder to me.), 25 was a very good year. And I hope 26 will be even better. Onward and upward!