Saturday, December 25, 2010

Reverb 10: Future Self

December 21 Future Self

Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself ten years ago. What would you tell your younger self?)

I'm only four days behind. This is a Christmas Miracle!

Five years from now I'll be 29 (almost 30!) and (hopefully) we'll be on our next house flip.

Dear Me Now,
You know, I know right now things are stressful because this is your first remodel. It's exciting and you feel like a grown-up, but it's also stressful because you're going to make a few mistakes and there will be things you won't be happy with. The nice thing is that you're still going to make money off of the house you're in. Seriously, you've already increased the value of the house by thousands and thousands of dollars, and you haven't even started working on the basement. Take a chill pill. Enjoy the ride. And when you're done and you sell for a profit, go do something fun with a bit of the money you make.
Me in Five years
P.S. If things don't work out, it isn't the end of the world. Take another chill pill.

Ten years ago I was 14, nearing the end of my sophomore year of high school. I had a crush on a boy (over whom my best friend and I broke up), whom I ended up dating, then dumping because he was a total pothead.

Dear Me Ten Years Ago,
I know you're head over heels for him. I know he seems "deep" and he actually listens to what you have to say. But trust me, you're going to have to choose between him and your closest friend. It's juvenile, really, because she totally dated him behind your back before you dated him, even though she knew you liked him, and then when you date him you'll have to find a new place to sit at lunch, because she and all of her groupies will pretend you aren't there and you'll have to try hard not to cry. And after all that, you'll break up and she won't forgive you until you're signing yearbooks at the end of senior year, and even then she'll just stop hating you. You won't ever be friends again. All this being said, you'll probably ignore me and date him anyway, because you're a hopeless romantic and desperate to be loved, and on top of that you're a little boy crazy. At least you'll forever remember the smell of spearmint and pot very fondly...
Me Now (who finally has boys figured out)

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