A letter from November 19th, 2018

Dear FutureMe, This is Jennie. Or you. Same thing. There is a cat on my lap called prongs. She is Charlie’s cat. Charlie Wright. And she is totally cute. Don’t judge my grammar. You know we failed school. Also. You are drunk. This is a fairly common occurrence. What with you being an alcoholic and all. Hopefully you’ve managed to kick that in the butt by now. You live in Canada. How did that go? Are you still there? Did you end up in Australia? You’re with Gemma. You love her. She’s pretty darn great. But you’re still pretty reserved about it all. Danie ****** that up for you. You don’t live so freely anymore. Do you have kids yet? Will you ever? I hope so. But I can’t be sure. It’s complicated and so is the world. Did Donald Trump create WW3? I feel like he might. Have we gotten skinnier? I’m the biggest we’ve ever been right now and I’m hoping we can change it. But at the same time I have other priorities. I want to live. In the moment, every moment. I want to see the world. I want to learn how to love myself. How to forgive myself. I’m starting to. Hopefully I’ve managed more in the future. Anyway. Here I am. 27 years old you. Did I make it through the forever 27 club? Do I want to? I guess we’ll find out