A letter from Jun 11th, 2021

Dear FutureMe, I just got an email to do this. 6/11/21, 9:07a. I am sitting at work. Ratchet and Clank Rift Apart dropped today, and I’m looking forward to that when I get home. That’s changed since we last met. I got an apartment. I got an IT job. Help desk ****—I like it, I think. I’ve been here for a few months. Not too sure. I’m sure these people will be memorable; they’re the worst part. I’m still not even making $15 an hour, what a drag. I can live with it though. Last night, I watched eXistenZ. Might be my favorite Cronenberg. Liked it a lot more than Scanners on Tuesday, at least. The body holes will always creep me out. Still waiting on my Vinegar Syndrome order to be shipped out, hopefully those will be fun. I started using Tinder recently. Having moved out, I really don’t have anyone to talk to aside from discording some folks maybe twice a month, and coworkers. The former is great, the latter, nah. Anyway, it sucks. So many blank profiles. Stupid astrology stuff. Just feels like a waste of time. Hopefully things will be different by the time I read this again. I just want a hug. Man. I totally have my **** together, now. I was told before that I did, but I guess that’s completely the case now. Owning my car, living on my own, paying my taxes and bills, going to work every day. Sucks, but, whatever. That’s life. Maybe things will be different in a few decades. All in all, I’m doing rather well for myself, I think. I just can’t wait to trip again. I really need it. I wanna go back to Japan again, too. Miss that place.