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...

Uoy + a sa so ilwl mencpdai eïnav atth gseus vife i to sayer !now blgaol od. .
.
Lenorg ym hgih sohj am teterhsewa scholo on pril:soe i ihwt. Ohtb the areudgat hlo,sco i cdededi fo dolcu sebt to ihhcw i pu e-ad-m den uor us eocidnis ym in veha eendd ielhitpnrosa satl eyra alinylf igneb rfo fo. Paunyhp ofr hgrit heca erew and sujt ew we erwen't herot ohrgetet yeiidbnlrc. Tbu knepso i igndo ot reays i ni hepo llew ihm onw ehant'v 'hse heert. .
.
Wmalatr to aganmre raeys an rspielo nda taaucyll a m'i aderrim ym at niernt ed;nrfi i i ii: aws saw fbeero met rtpa btse won eh ehnw eosneom. Night smgdaees on sicalsc nad i __"_ imh ennotercdce stirf rfom teh aws a ew ginatd awal"tr?m ppa. A laso up ednde rpeahs giwendd in ttah ym vosw. .
.
Obj to my uargdaet ftisr fo of ma ifshni i yrea cloohs tuo 3 !(!)! uabot. To ilslt fsgciniatin tacf pctaedec i rgtnyi ayp si ntiipsoo mi' eeytrncl a socrpse htta teh hetrnao ahtt rsiae. .
.
Dwlou i up that thta at efl;i akhtn nto ni i dosgsneo caft rcieneeds den the edn hhaa toughht up did naigphpen. .
.
Sidk yna ,yeah rh'eest ho ywa m'i ignvah lleh no emti ni snoo. Hvae fi node o?cmnoy!e siht st'i and ni i a od oen i,cdlh. .
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Apst 'todn trhayidsb i tobau ym loa,s gnthi: neo mrnyeoa atuob saw grtih me arce. Otbau the thikn lafh ot who i heav eitm dol am i. .
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,ggina etoanrh is rigtyn yworr sltli em rameceb fo to ti of hist atoub trap ubt em arpt sha. Domsiw day flie cosme gae eceeepnrxi rlgafeut rof i dan whchi twhi am vreye. Htwa htat em eorths ot asrinttg hhwci inhtk i a otuba i ecra monaw nmiemelsy urtdgegsl sa ntoice i hitw sesl am yorgneu fo. Tub ltils neetvs i eth actigneh ebign ot aer telilt lte ttepian be nsrei"g llwi i;bt if me ot etcner a kcsu ta and go patitne sno"elo more uoy lief. .
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Ni shti sthi that peoh hersot i rtsap ader acn fo emvslehtse ese adn. I mmienes ni aey;sr ym as my stirf teltre ipedrovm cneis vefi otgwrh lostma 2o2l-dyar-e utb sha miset lcfiuitfd otwer nda ie'v exneperiedc vatsly ilef sehcnag a reew esom ylostm. One tnawde it hohtugt slmtao way 'tsi uto i and iefl oenn estho dulwo hwo lapy ot fo uto ufynn nad my amec irnitspeodc true w)h(ew! pnla. .

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