Ethan Marcotte now blogs at Unstoppable Robot Ninja.


Weblog entry:

Quarter-life, lite

She looks over her shoulder as She walks out of the room, saying It’s your last day, you realize.

I look up from the laptop. Last day of what, exactly?

Of you being twenty-six.

Woodcut from Spenser's Shepheardes CalendarShe’s right, as She often is: in twelve or so hours I’ll officially have chalked another year up on the wall. I don’t know how I managed to lose track of it, but nonetheless…twenty-seven. Half of fifty-four, thrice divisible by nine, and chock-full of questions for ex-literature students that haven’t yet figured out what they want to be when they grow up. That’s the funny thing about birthdays: each one makes the next seem so much more remote, less pressing. You know people that are twenty-seven, that are thirty, that are fifty-four, but that’s not you. Not yet. You’ve another year until you need to deal with that whole aging thing — plenty of time. Time enough for another twelve rent checks to be paid, another four seasons to pass, another twenty-six paychecks to be collected.

Of course, I have to remind myself just how very not routine the past year has been: filled with friends made, friends met and friends departed, I’d consider myself damned lucky to have another half as good. So while I’m starting a new year on the planet, I’d like to thank you for reading this lil’ blog throughout the past one. The three of you rock quite a bit, and it’s been great getting to know you.


This was, of course, the requisite “Poor me, I’m getting older” weblog post; to keep the sitegeist flowin’ freely, tomorrow it’s on to cat pictures, harrowing tales of what I had for breakfast, and/or complaints about the weather. Thrilling, I know.

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