Dear Future Me,

I suppose I should start this letter off the way you would writing to any old friend: How are you? For my sake, I hope your answer is “Good!” though, not the reserved, slightly passive “Good,” you might give to the woman at the supermarket ringing up your box of Advil and Sour Patch Kids. The kind of “Good” you tell your concerned friend on the phone after you unexpectedly fainted during a health class presentation on Organ Donation and were sent away in a wheelchair — that kind of good. I always imagined writing to myself would feel completely natural, like talking to that special friend that you can dive into conversation with regardless of the last time you spoke. However, I don’t have any friends like that nor would I have the capability to maintain a relationship like that if given the opportunity. So I apologize for perhaps being a bit abrupt in conversation; you know what it’s like.

In case you don’t have a clear memory of the year 2016 (most of us are trying to forget it), this past year has been dizzying. Sometimes you feel like you’re doing everything right; sometimes it feels like no matter what you do, it’s being done horribly wrong. That’s partially your fault for being so incredibly sensitive, but lately, you’ve been blaming the weird combination of genetics you received on your often extreme behavioral tendencies. Truth be told, life is going okay. School is stressful, work is tiring, and your roommates are unnerving. Hopefully by the time this gets to you, you’ll have a better grasp on Portuguese (your current catchphrase/cry for help is Eu nao fala!!!), minimum wage will have hit $15 an hour, and you’ll be living in a studio apartment on the West Side, sipping mimosas over brunch with colleagues. This is not to say that I have incredibly high hopes- I mean shit, our President thinks global warming is a conspiracy. I type this as the weather is nearing seventy degrees in the heart of February. I just have hope that you won’t have become a complete recluse/emotional trainwreck/communist conspirator/subhuman cave dweller. I hope we’ve made good decisions, and above all, I hope we’re still capable of, like the great REO Speedwagon, rollin’ with the changes.

Enough about me (You’ve been here and done this I’m sure), and a little more about you. Currently, I’ve been ruminating and in the process ruining myself over the thought of higher education, and the thought of staying at Hunter College has been putting you in a tizzy. It’s most definitely that deeply inbred tendency you have to want everything you don’t have, but in the same breath sometimes college doesn’t feel like everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Extra-curriculars are nearly impossible to get involved with, and nothing quite sparks your interest like it did in high school. Ah, high school, a place you ever so secretly miss dearly but in the same breath never want to return to again.

If there’s one thing you don’t miss it’s the classes. Hunter College has given you a solid handful of teachers that cared and loved their job, teachers that you are physically incapable of letting down. Yet there’s been a few, a few select few, that have let you down and brought you back to those high school days of dragging lectures and mindless homework — and quite frankly, they scare you silly. I’m hoping you’ve found a way to figure out how to deal with this, either through some sort of coping mechanism (repeating to yourself in the mirror, “I care, They care, We care,” or perhaps even chain smoking?), or through finding yourself a new collegiate home. I hope you’ve powered through that misery, I hope you’ve powered through your ice cream misery, and I hope you’ve found yourself a corner of the sky free from most miseries.

I also hope you’ve found yourself a decent hobby, because as you may remember you’ve been binge watching "House" for the past month, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve managed to balance it with going to the gym (another misery I hope you’ve found a solution for) some might say it’s a very unhealthy habit. I hope you’ve continued on the diet you generally practice, because quite frankly you deserve every cupcake the nice ladies at the Cupcake Market force on you, especially since your main food group is somewhere between kale and the Mushroom Mix you buy at Trader Joe’s. You’re a hard worker, and I hope you stay that way. You’re also a sensitive soul; I hope you have overcome the bad portions of that but still held onto those empathetic tendencies. I really hope you’ve gotten your laundry situation figured out too, it currently sucks. Whatever actual problems are provoking you, much like the many pains you've suffered in your very short and very uneventful life, they too shall pass, and you'll make it out alive. You’re doing alright now, and I hope you’re doing alright in your now.

Best of Luck (I’m sure you’ve needed it),