A letter from Jan 07, 2025

Dear FutureMe, It’s June 2025. Six months from now, here’s what I want to say I’ve accomplished. First, Malcolm knows his ABCs. Not just recognizing them—owning them. I’ll plaster the alphabet everywhere: his room, the toilet, wherever he’ll notice. We’ll dive into reading books together, and I’ll keep phonics workbooks as my secret weapon. Beyond that, I want him to keep loving rugby and maybe pick up tennis or paddle. Let’s see where his curiosity takes him. At work, I want control. Total clarity. By June, I’ll have processes that run like clockwork. My meetings? I’ll own them. My clients? They’ll have digital twins that are so refined, they’ll feel like magic. And a content calendar? Not just better—bulletproof. This isn’t about doing more; it’s about doing smarter. On the personal front, I’ll tackle Tim’s 5-rule routine. No white carbs. No fruit. Robot meals for breakfast and lunch. Thirty grams of protein every morning. One day off. It’s a system—lean, efficient, and designed to work. I’ll also feed my mind. A Coursera course is on my list, and I’ll finish it. And I’ll carve out time for nature: six trips to Cape Point, one a month. It’s about pausing, breathing, and remembering what matters. My birthday? That’s for Malcolm and me—a day at the Aquarium, just us. Big goals? I want us to own this house. It’s ambitious, but ambition is fuel. I’ll also find a cause to give back to, something that lights me up and makes a difference. And the book. It’s time. Not to finish it—just to start. A chapter, a structure, even a messy draft. I’ll take that first step. FutureMe, this is the plan. Hold me to it. Here’s to focus, progress, and purpose, PresentMe