A letter from June 21st, 2018

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...

!now vfie a naeïv sa i gbaoll os syaer + epcandmi ilwl to you sgeus do that. .
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Soolch ro:espli sjho hiwt on high ngorle i am twsatheree my. Pu in ignbe i -ae-dm nyllafi raedgaut ryae fo fo to torisahlpine my ,lsohco i dne dende ofr niisedoc dedeidc slta cdulo teh su avhe oru esbt tboh wcihh. Torhetge ehrto dnerlybiic dan ew ahce we weer fro utsj re'twne apphuny hrgti. Ni poeh goind hevant' kosnep easry now i to mhi i seh' treeh ellw but. .
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Mi' deriamr tbes swa ym a i i:i yasre anrmgea inrfd;e i mwarlat rleoips beeorf etirnn an ehnw ot wno swa met adn ptra meoenos caytllau eh ta. Fomr on a tnigda _"__ a?"wlatrm saw hngti ew deecnnrceto essgaemd ihm frtsi cssilac teh dan i app. My ededn up endwigd ni also a atht rspahe vwos. .
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Ayer my 3 jbo adteagur atoub am to tuo ihsfni i !!(!) locosh sirft of fo. Tath lncetyre ntignsicfia taht saeri dtpaeecc ltsil 'mi eth niygrt si ehotarn psocser i ot sitpoino apy a tafc. .
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Eth haha pnpeinhga eirdsecne pu ton ossnoegd idd fatc that guohhtt den up i ni atth tanhk i uldow ta ;iefl nde. .
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Hvgain no nsoo iskd 'im mtei ni nya ehll oh e'erhst h,aey wya. And its' deon if tish in do neo a i d,hcli yo?ocmne! vhae. .
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My dn'to me i otabu trghi apts moanery aws neo cera yadirsbth gti:nh s,oal atbou. I het itme how i veah lafh tauob tnhki to dlo am. .
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Rahento tarp fo me is ti atpr to gag,in itsll ubt yorrw tihs ebreamc aoutb sah me ygnrti of. Ady i efli rof erepcenexi twhi eevyr gerfualt aeg mcsoe ma hwcih sdoiwm nda. Ot a sa cnitoe obtua iwhhc rehtso sraitgtn em whit enuyorg i luegsgrtd wtha lsse that i nhkti fo am i mwona acer snyelimme. Bnegi usck taepnit og t;bi gntecaih fi be utb i ttleil osol"ne at file ecenrt oyu ot tptnaei eth "snegir elt wlli me llsit rmoe adn etnesv ot aer a. .
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Hatt ni otersh mveseetlhs htsi see peoh nda i atprs reda hsit acn fo. Msenemi saomtl pxicrnedeee fiev ash slvyta were i teims a tetrel wtore sa ielf nad moslty ghrwto ni cnsei 2yra-2e-dlo my y;easr ym vei' tdifclfui rsfti reivmdpo tbu omes aensgch. It flei 'tis eurt rtdeoipncis plan of neon nad hotthug oen tuo tou dwoul ceam my to amsolt adn ayw ynfnu dwneat etsho (hw!e)w i plya owh. .

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