R.I.P. to my Youth / by Liz Brown

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This song by The Neighbourhood came on as I was driving to work and it was the perfect amount of pre-coffee angst.

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This isn't what you think it is. Yes, in a way, drinking my coffee black and willingly--nay, excitedly--wearing blazers feels like a sort of conclusion to the younger portion of my life.

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But. Don't for one second believe that I won't drive home at 4pm, windows down even in the 30-degree weather--shouting Taylor Swift into the wind tunnel of the interstate. Don't believe that I won't each dark chocolate for breakfast or guacamole for dinner. I'll still go to midnight showings of movies and now that I have weekends free, I'm going to drive until I hit a small town and explore until nightfalls.

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Maybe my job means I'm suddenly more "grown up." But maybe it's just a job--not my identity--and maybe youth--like joy--is a choice. Don't complain that your youth is gone. It's your own choice. Choose it again.

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And I'm choosing youth and laughter and stargazing and conversations with strangers in coffee shops and sage nails (that's the colour mine are now) and talking the long way home with the radio up.