As I write my office DJ debut, it’s exactly six days and 14 hours from my 20th birthday.
Though I’ve been an adult for a little while now, something about deserting the '-teen' at the end of my age feels scarily definitive. I know it doesn’t really mean much — 7299 days of life is hardly different from 7300 — but I can’t help but feel that, after two decades, I really should know what I’m doing.
Sure, I have some ideas. I know I enjoy writing and editing, illustration and research. I know I value a career in something that’s fulfilling and uses my interests. And I know that, above all, I want to make the world a more empathetic, more peaceful place.
But the truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing. At all. And I’m learning that a lot of being a human is like that. We work on things we care about, take opportunities as they come up and try not to worry too much about post-grad job prospects in the humanities.
Well, that last one might just be me. I’m working on it.
Something about aging that I’ve always appreciated, though, is knowing that future Taylor knows a heck of a lot more than current Taylor does. All of the things I’ve worried about in the past — like landing jobs and getting into college — have all worked out, both in ways I expected and in ways I didn’t see coming.
And, above all, I know that I can rely on future me just as much as I can rely on current me. So when I’m taking those baby steps of looking for opportunities and focusing on my passions, I’m learning to trust that future Taylor has the details handled. And she’s probably handling it while listening to her whole music library on shuffle, just like she has in the years before.
I know, I know. But don’t knock it till you try it — you find some great song transitions that way.
In gifting you all this office DJ, I’m giving you a look into the current and the previous versions of me. My tastes have broadened, certainly, but songs like "Use Somebody" and "When I Come Around" go just as hard as they did when I first downloaded them onto my iPod touch.