Dear Future Self,
Tell me, how will things be in the future? Will there be flying cars? If there are, I bet they’ll be invented soon by Elon Musk. Anyway, I’m writing this as a senior year project. Mrs. Donaldson says we need to write a letter to our future self that will be mailed to us after we graduate college. “It’ll be good to see how far you come” blah blah blah. I don’t even know if I want to go to college. And what if my address changes because my parents have moved? What if I do go to college and I don’t graduate on time? All I’m saying is that this is a very flawed plan on her part. I’m humoring her for an easy grade and writing this like it’ll find me many years from now like it prevented from reaching my grasp because of some sort of unfortunate accident.
When I see the future in my head, I see something out of the Jetsons with flying cars and cities in the sky. Personally, I think the most unrealistic thing about the Jetsons is the names. You expect me to believe there will be people named Judy or George? No. My great-grandchildren will have names like Vexx or Andromeda, something stupid and pretentious except it won’t be either of those things because it’s the future and the rich have colonized Mars.
I realize that I’m talking like I think all these things will happen in four to five years which I know they won’t. I haven’t actually thought about the future in a realistic, “I need to plan for it” sort of way. I don’t know what I want, but I know I want to leave this stupid town. There’s nothing for me here, but maybe there’s nothing for me anywhere else either. I’m not one of those innovators working on colonizing Mars, I’m a girl who tries to get out of taking any sort of science and math class, and works the register at her dad’s tool shop on weekends. If we’re mining for natural gas on Uranus it won’t be because of anything I did.
This wasn’t a problem before, the guidance counselor just kept telling me I had time, but now it’s the beginning of my senior year and I’m expected to seriously think about where I’ll be in five years. When I think about it, I don’t know where I’ll be, but I can’t imagine it’ll be anywhere good. I guess I have to start somewhere, by thinking about what future me wants. You would want me to go to college, right? Get something started? That’s reasonable, but also expensive. Remember, dad owns a hardware store in a small town. I feel like the default is always college, but it’s a lot of money for so much uncertainty.
Remembering Mrs. Donaldson has to read this just gave me chills. I might delete all of this and write some bullshit letter about hope, love and happiness. If anything, I hope I can achieve something like love or happiness. There has to be some place I can start with that, right? You obviously have all the answers but since I’m not actually a time traveler, I have no idea what you would say. I hope you’re happy, and you’re more sure of yourself. You can find some sort of happiness doing whatever it is you discover you’re passionate about. Give your best, will you?
Love,
Your Past Self
P.S. I just Googled it and apparently Uranus is made of gas so you can’t mine it? That’s a joke all in of itself. You probably already knew that but just thought I’d pass along the info.