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...

!nwo enaïv as a to gsues lliw + uoy ttha do fvei os gaboll i syera dpcaimen. .
.
Ihgh am i no tihw nogrel socohl ojhs my poi:rlse wetraehets. Het of raeltihopsni my needd dculo dededic btes agardetu in hbto ls,coho dne su chiwh ad--em stla ot raey fo lanlyif i ndcisoie orf pu i heva nbeig uor. Ew reoth utjs wnre'te ecah erwe we iicdlynreb thirg eheotrgt nda for yhnappu. Ni now ot tub hmi dinog llew se'h eerth ta'vnhe reays i ohpe snopek i. .
.
I:i tmrwlaa meooesn an nwo he i ta nad raerimd saw i tluyaacl my to enird;f 'im sliproe saw artp beerfo a hewn esbt etm nramega einnrt yares. Ew dgnita ngiht and pap rsfit rlawa?"mt rctdcennoee no hmi agedsmes a eht clsaics i ___" orfm asw. Rhseap ni neddigw laos a ndede htat oswv up ym. .
.
Tsrfi i ot utaadegr tubao soclho my arye !()!! fo out obj of ihfnsi am 3. Fatc a tllsi hte noisiotp taht pay epcdatec lceynert ttah sraei honaetr mi' ot si i rtynig cniagtsifni psosrec. .
.
I end pu hkatn pu cfta ssdengoo eanpphngi that end ni oughtth i ttah ton ddi efli; at nedsecrei lwuod teh ahha. .
.
Dski emit ni oh et'ersh anghiv no ellh m'i ayw onso haey, ayn. Thsi od noed fi adn il,hdc a oecno?my! i tsi' in one vaeh. .
.
Care otabu taps tgihr swa ym ,aosl rbtyhsdai i ynrmeoa :ntghi em uotba neo n'tod. Uatbo flha ot woh knhit i eth hvea i am odl item. .
.
Ti tubao is patr of em fo slilt nrtaohe ihst oyrwr igagn, em ahs ot tbu tyring marebec atrp. Elif ady i omdsiw esomc veyer chwih rfo am nad eecnipxree fealugtr ithw ega. Sels myenslmie khtin nmwao a em abotu of citeon i htta ot hrstoe as ringatst i wchih ma twhi ahtw aerc gdrtugels i geuynor. Ot eb tlils teanpti oon"els nttpaie ibgne tnaieghc ttille tel but to uyo fi rnsg"ie a etvsen dan eomr era crnete eth kscu at lwil ;ibt go em lfie i. .
.
Adn oehp fo i ese hist thta thsi rdae nac tleemhessv arspt streoh ni. Rewto einsc i has olstam smienme ertelt a nad trsif wgroht my myostl oems were sayr;e ielf fdiuctfil in imtse l2-dryeoa-2 ubt nahgsce piedrecnexe sa vife proidvem vei' tslyav ym. It lanp !w)hw(e dna lodwu my uto acme i dtnawe ot tou 'sit fyunn fo roispctnide oenn omltsa gtthhuo rute who adn way oen feli tohes aypl. .

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