A letter from June 21st, 2018

Time Travelled — almost 3 years

Peaceful right?

Dear FutureMe, So, right now, I'm sitting in Josh and I's shared bedroom in his mom's house. I just finished my first reflection journal for the first 50 hours of my practicum at SVC. I concluded this reflection by saying that I don't want to work in campus life. So, I guess that's something. I'm broke as fuck, in so much debt I could cry, and I'm not in the best physical shape. But I also have a family I love, a wonderful man by my side, and friends that mean the world to me. So, life's not bad. Sometimes I think back to when I was like 13 or 14-- did I envision my life as it is now? I'm so fucking proud of myself for the things I've overcome-- I have a college degree, I'm halfway through grad school, and i finally have a reliable mode of transport. I think little teenage me would be pretty amazed at where I am now. So, who knows where I'll be in 3 years? Will I be close to an assistant director of residence life position? Will i even pursue residence life as my first job? There's still so much uncertainty in my life, but I'm not scared of it. So, in three years from now, I'll basically be old. Just kidding. But I'll be closer to thirty. Which is when I said I'd want kids. How will I feel in three years? Will I have a better idea of whether or not I actually want to have children? I think I chose thirty because by that time I should know what the hell I want in life, right? I'll be more stable financially I hope, and I'll be ready to decide if I want to have a child. Who knows. I'm only 22 right now, not yet 23. On another note, I realllllly don't care about any more of my birthdays. Maybe 25 because car insurance or whatever. I guess I'm a little scared of aging-- It means losing touch with youth, getting more wrinkles, and physical deterioration. But even when I get this letter I'll still be in my twenties so maybe I should stop being so morbid. Okay, I'm seriously getting annoyed by myself, so I'll wrap this letter up. I guess this will be a neat little surprise in my inbox three years from now. Maybe I can do this again after I receive this one. PS thanks Pantsuit Politics for telling me about this. Hopefully your podcast is still going strong in 3 years. Or, ideally, Beth and Sarah will be running the country in some capacity. FUCK Donald Trump. okaythanksbyeeeee

Epilogue

about 1 year later

It's kind of a weird feeling to read this as a 26-almost-27-year old. I've been through so many changes in almost five years that I view my 22-year old self...

Llwi o!wn ryaes nacmpide eivf gusse naïev abgllo thta a os ot + as you i od. .
.
Wearestteh scholo ma no hghi jhos i rolneg pl:osrie my htwi. Flalniy of nde haev fo udaarget ni begni ot setb diocenis ed-a-m ofr i irpilntoaehs edceidd cwhih ddnee our htob pu ayer duolc su i het ym alst lsooc,h. We yhapupn dan cahe we rewe e'trewn iicbrdyenl rof rghit eotrh eettgorh tusj. Dgino ayres nvheat' in ethre 'seh lelw nespok hpoe hmi btu i ot i wno. .
.
At garenam uytalcla srlpioe ym now rboefe ehnw swa frdin;e ayrse adn saw tem tlaawrm :ii enooems i m'i a rtap ot eh btse rrmdaie i na ernnti. Sliccsa mih wltar"m?a pap ssgeadem adn __"_ tidnag i a htign swa ofrm ew teh risft ceceentrndo no. Ndiedwg my ni a that sloa up ddnee eraphs wovs. .
.
Atbuo i yrea 3 of sinhif )(!!! ot tisfr tuo hlocso my jbo agtdeuar fo am. Ltrnecye siltl afct i si im' insopoit a tiacnniisgf to het iyngrt cedaetpc eoprcss atth atth oerntah rieas ayp. .
.
Hghoutt eth ongssdoe ni did fi;el dne ahiepnngp akhtn tacf pu dne ahha sdreneice that up htta i ont i doluw at. .
.
Onos ywa time mi' ethe'sr gvhina hlel ho on any hay,e ni iksd. Sti' evah a isht edon ?emoync!o i nad ni fi do li,dch oen. .
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Ptas ydiatrbsh thn:ig otaub noe em crea salo, aobtu i rhtgi ayoenmr ym otd'n asw. To hknti ma teh i vhae i ohw ouatb imet old hfal. .
.
Lslti of woryr ti atpr ranteho em trap ggian, tnyrig eacermb tbu uotba has me isth to of si. I eag adn osmce vyeer hcwih file hiwt oidswm yda fgueralt ieneecrepx fro am. Srdlguget i etosrh to trgtsina tkihn waht sa a hiwt ungryoe am me i wchih iocnet memlnesyi of tabou thta mwano i lsse caer. Nerisg" ta enattpi bt;i enl"soo gtcnhaie em i veetsn ttleli ot inbeg nptitea ear oyu fi to eht sltil cntere and etl orme tub ksuc a ielf be og will. .
.
I nda aerd tshi atht tpras theros smhtleesev in nca tish of eohp ees. Vtayls ewre iesmt a my i l2rae-2dy-o ash my lytosm reltet smoe adn ftisr necsi i've smoatl in eridpmvo efiv gnecahs utb rey;as sa needpxcreei flei imnsmee futildcif twore otrhgw. Tuo otu ym and payl i it oen eonn flie fynnu anwedt alnp othes sctiropiedn othhgut t'is dan way ceam w!(ehw) ohw fo losmat rtue to dulwo. .

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