Megan Duncan: Coffee-Shop-Hopper retiree now finally has home in downtown Hannibal

It’s my first full day with an office at the new Muddy River News Hannibal location. I made coffee, looked around the room and thought, “This is weird. Where is the music?”

I’m now wanting to order a Mimi’s Coffehouse soundtrack. I could play my own, but it doesn’t feel right.

I thought I locked myself in the bathroom and panicked for just a second until I figured out how the lock turns.

Doors are difficult.

I called three people last night just to figure out how to lock the front doors. My key just needed some maneuvering.

I walked to lunch at the Mexican restaurant without carrying a computer bag stuffed with various meeting agendas, brochures and mail I’m not yet prepared to deal with.

Then I walked to the library to talk about a story for their summer reading program.

I got rained on during the walk back — and I didn’t even care.

I might have even danced a little in that rain, which only consists of a little shoulder-shake and butt wiggle. I plan to be walking those roads quite a bit when it’s nice out, so I don’t want to be giving myself a reputation.

I have spent years of my life pouring into writing, and to finally have a space in downtown Hannibal to be a writer … I don’t know how to express my grateful heart. It’s a big deal for me.

I remember when I first worked at the Hannibal Courier-Post, and I don’t mean two years ago before joining Muddy River.

In the late 1990s, I took a job with the Courier-Post as an advertising rep, and I was beyond terrible at it. The whole two months I worked there, I looked longingly back into the newsroom where writers were typing away on their stories.

At the time, I lived in the back of Mom’s old ceramic shop, a few doors down from the newspaper office.

Many mornings before work, I sat at the diner across the street writing my own stories with a plate of biscuits and gravy and a Mountain Dew (my coffee of the 90s.)

I never thought I would one day sit at my own desk — just down the street from that old newspaper office — typing away.

I never really believed in myself, but God sure did.

I’m 44 years old, so believe me when I say His timing belongs fully to Him.

I often think I’m too old to be learning journalism in a more challenging way like I am now, but God says, “Girl, it’s taken me this long to get you ready. Go for it!”

It’s never too late to pursue what He has put on your heart.

It will take work, stepping out of all the comfort zones, and boldly going where He leads.

Following Him is sure worth it.