Hey! How’s it going? I hope that you are doing well and are as excited as I am to greet you in just a few short weeks. It’s the 22nd of January, which means that I am under the wire of a one-month countdown to my birthday-that’s you!
I bet you are under a lot of pressure. You never used to be a milestone birthday. You laughed at 18, 21, 30, 40, 50 and so on, and mused to 27 how you were so relieved to be just an ordinary year.
Then, out of nowhere, the US government decided to make you important. I don’t know you yet, so I can’t be sure if this was a welcome change for you. At first, 24 had the job of being the cut-off for dependency of a minor child. 24 took the heat, and it was a perfect set up to roll right into 25 and a quarter life crisis.
But now? Now arrested-development minors like me and a whole host of others, who for one reason or another continued to be on their parents’ insurance plans, are looking at you with dread and begrudgery. (Is begrudgery a word? It should be because I begrudge you, 26.) You used to get by with an ice cream cake and some Hallmark cards of acknowledgement, but now you leave us scrambling to try and figure out the spiderweb of confusion that is finding new insurance coverage so that we don’t get stuck with fines and a year of financial/medical vulnerability (um, yuck).
It’s a bummer deal you’ve been handed, 26, but please don’t despair. I’ve been anticipating you, so I’m ready.
I have had 9,728 doctors’ appointments in the last week alone! I’ve done everything from getting odd moles removed to cavities filled to begging my doctors to write 99 refills on my prescriptions just in case I have to find a new medical team.
Luckily, after much mind boggling research that turned out to be completely unnecessary, I found that my current insurance plan has a special “Young adult” plan that allows me to keep my same network, which means the Avengers will not have to Disassemble! It will, however, cause my deductible to reset in just a few short weeks, so please excuse me a moment, I have to go stockpile as many pairs of compression stockings (in an assortment of colors!) as I can, as my current deductible has already been met.
I’m not going to lie, when I first found out about your new-found significance, 26, I balked. My brain doesn’t work well with anticipation of change. But I gave myself enough time to figure you out, and I think we’re going to be ok! I know you’re glad to hear it!
We can be friends now, 26. Now that I’ve figured this stuff out, we can spend the next 4 weeks bidding a fond farewell to 25. I bet I even have time to sneak in a quarter life crisis, as I’m sure I haven’t had a proper one just yet! I mean really, I’m not married, I don’t have kids, I don’t have a crazy amazing job that allows me to travel the world in first class, and if I am to believe Facebook (who doesn’t believe Facebook?) EVERYONE ELSE HAS THESE THINGS.
Thanks for looking out for me on my journey into adulthood, 26. I’m kind of glad that it’s you and not 24 I am talking to right now, because even in these 2 short years I have grown so much as a person, and I think that I am much better equipped to handle all the things you mean now- both governmentally (get off your parents insurance already!) and metaphysically (this is the last year you count as being “mid-20s!” Next year you switch over to the dark side of “late-20s!”).
See you in February!