Is 23 All It's Cracked Up To Be? The Verdict Is Still Out On This One...

I'm 23 now. For the first time in my short life I can answer affirmatively to the question: Do you feel any different in your new ripe-old age? I'm not yet sure why 23 seems so much older, holds so much more emotional impact and sends my heart rate into overdrive. I think it might have something to do with having no clue where my life is going beyond July 31 and knowing that every choice I make now could mean the difference between writing alongside Maureen Dowd and getting stuck somewhere along the way. Yet, as soon as I work myself up over the seriousness of each new, pressing decision, my inner rebel kicks in its two-cents: Why the hell do you want to follow a safe, conventional path? BORING!!! UNFULFILLING!!!

So I'm in limbo. Looking for summer work and a new roommate. Looking for direction and inspiration. Trying to gain real and valuable journalistic experience, but also savoring every moment at my pool before I become too entrenched in real-world shackles.

It's been 11 days into my love/hate relationship with 23 and though I feel like it's too early to call this one...it might be a tougher year than I've expected. That being said, it will probably be more profound. It will probably yield remarkable identity discoveries. It will probably be worth it. Wait...rewind. It will definitely be worth it.