A letter from May 12th, 2020

Dear Future Me, Stop. Take a deep breath. Loosen your shoulders. Unclench your jaw. Hey, if you’re feeling really into it, go grab a glass of water. Just kidding, you don’t have a choice. I’m not hydrated, so you better be. Picture this: the year is 2020. I’m sitting in bed at 10:24 PM doing online assignments due in 10 and a half hours, along with 3 missing assignments. I’m listening to Autumn rant about me sleep talking on the phone, and debating on if I’m going to workout tonight. I’m curious. Does it get better from here? Does it get a whole lot worse? Do we still think that we’re going to be an electrician? Hey, do we know what we ACTUALLY want to do, or is the fear of an unsuccessful future and wasted childhood only mounting? I hope you have fun with that one tonight. I don’t know how much things are going to change after this, but I have a feeling that we are not going to be the same people. I really, really hope that’s a good thing. Quarantine gave us a heck of a lot of free time chief, and I hope that you ended up making use of it. There was WAY too much time spent just straight up THINKING for you to have wasted that, and if you do then I’m gonna ruin your life. Hah. I’m hilarious. Flowing time jokes are great. How bad does Corona get man? What’s the final ***** count? Was it worth all of this? We got through 30 episodes of MBMBAM in a month during all of this. Are we up to date? Probably not. God, I’m running out of things to ramble about. It’s 10:44 now. I still have a ton of stuff to do, and you’re probably just gonna skim over this, so we’re gonna cut this short. Try to get a workout in today. Get that core blasted. Swole is the goal, size is the prize. Drink a full glass of water. Tell mama you love her. Keep your head up king, your crown is falling. Godspeed, You Again