I am itching to write my next love column for the Cigs and the City Substack. I spent most of the day with my friend, Syton, pondering my next move. I sent out five different interview emails so I could get to work on my next article. I am possessed by the work, and I don’t feel like slowing down any time soon. I'm still on call even though it's spring break.
I am doing the thing that most people have told me to avoid in my 20s. I am rushing the puzzle pieces so they fall into place quicker. I texted Shivani about my insatiable cravings, and she encouraged me to follow my instincts. I have a head full of ideas, and I want to try them all.
The constant reminder that I am graduating in one year likely contributes to my inability to sit still. That is, put simply, terrifying. Earlier, I peeked at my DegreeWorks graduation checklist and saw that I only need 30 more credits to graduate. That is two full semesters’ worth of work. Graduating high school was easier because I knew that what everyone recommended was also true for me. My future appeared to involve attending college, and now, I discover myself contemplating what lies ahead. The recommendations are not as structural anymore. There isn’t anyone breathing down my back, hounding me about grades. Perhaps my mother does this occasionally, but it's irrelevant.
I feel, deep down, that I am comfortable in my skin. I am clear on who I am and what I want, but occasionally I still wonder what my path looks like. I understand that I don’t need to know what will happen after May 2027, but I am praying on my crystal ball to give me the clearest answer.
Many individuals who have already gone through what I am enduring share a similar answer, which is that my career path can and likely will change. That is both exciting and slightly scary. Knowing I may wake up one day and decide on something new is liberating, but I also worry. Part of me wants to be open to change, ready for anything that comes my way. I want to be free of this anxiety, but that would mean missing out on the journey's ups and downs. Adulthood has been an adjustment, and I am only 21. What happens at 30, 40, and 50? Time will only tell, I guess.
I am listening to “Words Get in the Way” by Gloria Estefan to help soothe me to bed.
TJL