2005 is an anchor year. The year has a hold on me. In my head, I am 22-years old. I have just graduated college. I have just enough money to drive from Alaska (my home state) to Atlanta, Georgia, where I will study advertising copywriting. I know I will love a career in this industry. I don’t have enough sense to truly think through this decision. But, I have just enough sense to know that if I do consider all of my options and even begin to weigh pros and cons, I won’t make this choice, a choice that feels like adventure and fun.
In reality, right now, I am 34. I’ve grown timid in my decisions, mostly because I have more to lose than the boxes of books and the Ford Taurus they are loaded into. Every once and a while, I am reminded that it is no longer 2005 and I am no longer 22-years old. Here is a list.
Things That Remind Me It Is No Longer 2005 and I Am Not 22-Years Old:
- Every one of my children’s birthdays.
- Each and every one of my birthdays.
- I lost my wanderlust somewhere in Cincinnati.
- I no longer yearn to move to a different city or state.
- I no longer yearn to move all of my belonging every few years.
- The easy-going Midwestern attitude may have something to do with this.
- I have a lot more belongings, including the furniture that I so very much resisted.
- The top of my right foot hurts.
- My right shoulder feels rusty. Some days there are small pangs when I move it just so and I am trying to figure out if it is just the way I am sleeping.
- An alternative rock station is no longer preset on my car radio.
- I don’t buy CDs. Rarely do I purchase any form of music, for that matter.
- My college degree has my maiden name, which is now my middle name—a link to this degree and my past, perhaps.
- I haven’t had my Ford Taurus, my beloved first car, proudly purchased with my own money, since 2012.
- I drive a mini van.
- I really, really like my mini van. And it’s dual sliding doors. Trust me, they’re very convenient.
- I am beginning to yearn for the creative writing that I did in 2003-2005 in college. I want to do that again.
- If it was 2005, I wouldn’t have this desire for creative writing, because I would be doing it.
- I’ve held 2 full-time, permanent copywriting jobs. I now freelance.
- I’ve been making money at jobs that fall within what I consider a “career” for about 10 years.
- Having a career feels distinctly different than wanting a career.
- I know that there are seasons to life. Phases that are traversed. Like the open road, the dense forest slowly transforms into prairies fading into buildings and knots of interstates.
- Sometimes I wonder if this will be my new anchor year. A defining age that will demand comparison with the present.