A Letter to My Future Self
January 24, 2020
Dear future me, Wow, I can’t believe you’ve made it to your sophomore year. I don’t know if I should be proud of you for staying alive this long, or nonchalant because aging isn’t exactly
Dear future me,
Wow, I can’t believe you’ve made it to your sophomore year. I don’t know if I should be proud of you for staying alive this long, or nonchalant because aging isn’t exactly an accomplishment, but regardless, I can’t believe it.
I have so many questions for you. For example, how do you get to school? Do you still walk, have you finally gotten your license, or have you accepted defeat and started taking the bus? There’s a lot I really want to know, but most of all I hope you’re enjoying life to some degree.
Next year is going to be easier than the last in some ways. You’ll walk in on the first day knowing your way around, and will probably feel far superior to all of the freshman “fish," who will likely need a tour guide to survive the first week. Still, your classes are a lot harder than before and your teachers are less patient, so don’t let it get to your head.
I know that you’re reading this instead of studying for a test or finishing an essay. As soon as you’re done with this, I’m begging you to catch up on work. I know how hard it is for you to feel motivated to study, but remember that you have a limited amount of time to write an essay, and your whole life to finish season three of some TV show.
The past school year was an interesting one. I met new friends and lost touch with old acquaintances. There are people I know now who you probably won’t remember, and there are probably people you’re friends with who I don’t know yet. This year, I’ve realized there will be plenty of people I’ll interact with, from the kid who always borrowed my pencils to the people I compared notes with before quizzes, but only a few will really stick out in the long run. Hopefully, you’ll take the time to know who those people are.
This past year, the one thing I seemed to constantly fail at was organization. Hopefully you’ve figured this out by now, but it's going to make life a whole lot easier if you can live in a tidy space. And your backpack? Please tell me you’ve decongested it. I sincerely hope there aren’t any assignments you haven’t turned in because you can’t find them in your crammed accordion folder. There is no reason to keep worksheets from the first week of school by the second semester (trust me on this.)
Anytime you have the option of working with a group or by yourself on assignments, I’d like to remind you of a project last year in which your partner was less than ideal, and your grade was equally disappointing. Groups aren’t always bad, but you have to pick them wisely.
I know you’re stressed about something right now. I don’t know what it is, but knowing you there’s always something. I sincerely hope you take time to enjoy life right now, because even though this is probably your hardest year of school thus far, it’s only going to get worse from here. Go out, have fun, and try not to stress over everything, because I’ll be very disappointed if you’ve become a cranky person.
Lastly, to be frank, you need to get a job. I know you don’t have one yet because you say you don’t have time or doubt you can work a register (which is probably true,) but I’ll be pretty ashamed if you still need a loan to afford chips at concession stands. Your friends probably have jobs by now, so I’m telling you right now to go find one.
Anyway, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of experiences that I can’t yet imagine, and some experiences that are pretty predictable, but either way, I’m looking forward to meeting who you’ve become.
Your past self