100 posts!

Wow, it's only 100? Huh.

Well, thanks to those that read this, whoever you are. I wish I had happier news, but I got hit with identity fraud and still don't have a job and I'm robustly freaking out at the moment.

The most profound part of growing up and struggling on your own is how you do with obstacles. I wonder how I do it at times. Oh hell, I worry every single day. Experience in taking risks can lead to a better perspective and a calmer spirit, yet every new risk brings about new uncertainties of which you really have no backing to fall upon. That's why I laugh about jobs and schools and whomever wanting experience: Experience is the interaction of one context. It gives wisdom, if you seek it and understand, if you want it. Yet, the only thing that's prevalent is that each new thing is truly new and it starts over, all over again.

Extensive interviews and little context on whether you're doing a good job. Trying to gauge money and time and commitments and making sure you don't fall farther than you can pick yourself up. Making decisions, casting visions and praying for enough sun to burn off the daily fog.

These past 100 posts and whatever amount will be written reflects the tight rope that is becoming your own person and living your own life. A Middle Aged Young Adult is one who is right smack in the middle of the line: When I was a child, I thought and spoke and reasoned like one. When I became a man, I put away childish things. This time is about chucking the childishness. And finding a job or else I'll have to go back to the newsroom, which is what I don't want to do. Or file.