Sunday, July 11, 2010

Thing 89 Write A Letter to Future Me

Pictured: The future... it's awesome...

Suggestion of the day: Write a letter to future self. You're a pure genius Doctor O. So here it is...

Dear Future Me,

How are you? Hope you're well. In fact, I really hope you're very well. If you're not, we're both fairly screwed. You know, with you being me and all. You already know this, and maybe you're looking forward to it, but I hope you've somehow forgotten that this is coming, and that it takes you by surprise in some way. I want this to be a shock to your system. I want you to be afraid of your judgement from the past.

This letter to you/me will outline some things that I consider relevant. I want you to know what's coming in the following paragraphs. Firstly; I'm going to make sure you've achieved some of my goals. I want to check to see if you've bailed on some important bits that I want covered. Secondly; I want to make sure that you don't make certain mistakes. If you've started doing some things, or acting certain ways, I want you to feel like shit over them. There're certain things I really don't want you doing.

At the time of reading this you'll be 31 going on 32. In my book that's pretty old. And long past the time at which you're expected to have achieved something. First and foremost, I want you to get married, or at least be engaged. If you're not, it just means that you're still being a girl's blouse when it comes to relationships. There are certain excuses which will exempt you, but they're pretty significant. If you're not involved in a serious and progressive relationship then you're just being me, and that's sad. I expect us to have grown up by then. Matured a little if you will.

With regard to life goals. I've wanted to write a novel since I was twelve reading David Eddings novels in the back of my maths class when I should have been studying (sorry Ms. Chawke). If you've not managed this, then you've failed us both. I don't want to seem like I'm putting pressure on you, but you've got five years to achieve this. There's pretty much nothing you can't do in five years. We've wanted to do this for a while, and 32 is too old not have done it. If you haven't - hang your head, or at least offer someone a decent excuse. Not that I think you've got any. This one is really not negotiable.

At this point Ci Ci Do's kids will be past ten years old. You're expected to be a friend to them. They're your nieces and nephew. They better love their Uncle Dan. Birthdays and Christmas presents better have been awesome. This one is more important than the last two. By a good distance. Don't let us down.

It's a given that you better be still as tight with your immediate family. There's no excuse on this planet which allows you to dodge your obligation to keep looking after, supporting and loving your family. Rows are not tolerated or allowed. We've been down this road.

As for your friends. I've kind of set you up here. They're pretty class, despite the fact that I'm a bit cranky. If our friends aren't your friends then you owe it to me to patch up whatever differences you have and make it better. If you've lost them, then it's on you to take whatever steps are necessary to build the bridges to make things better.

I hope that these things are all ridiculous to you. I hope you're reading this and laughing because you've managed to keep all of these things sacred, and that there's a lot more to your life to boot, but these are the minimum requirements. If you are laughing at it, then here's a handy thing for you to do. To celebrate the fact that you've ticked all these boxes (and only if you have), get to an off-licence, buy an expensive bottle of scotch and have a drink with The Canuck. He'll get a serious kick out of this.

Now to the don't-dos. If you own a wardrobe of extremely expensive clothes you're to burn them. Some expensive clothes are allowed. Very high quality clothes are okay. You're just not allowed to have that many expensive clothes. It's a look that doesn't suit us. Never has. Never will.

If you're watching reality TV you're expected to immediately punch yourself in the head. Are you? If so, punch now. You know how I feel about reality TV.

You're not allowed to spend a year outside of Limerick. I realise this is unlikely in the next five years, but if you've spent a year outside the city then the chances are that you've neglected friends and family and are guilty of infringements laid out in the first part of this letter. By all means move elsewhere if circumstances dictate, but you've to visit. See mam and dad. Thorny Wire, Bean Bag, Ci Ci Do, Puc It Out and all the kids. As well as the mates. A year without a visit is not acceptable.

If you're a millionaire - and I hope you are, you better not be a douche. You'll know if you are.

As I said at the start, I hope this letter finds you well. I hope that none of the above apply to you. I wish you and all yours/mine well from the year 2010. I hope this was a good year for us...

Good luck. Have fun. Don't stop squeezing. Mind the step.



  1. that touched me Dan... Godboy

  2. Bless your little cotton sockies!!! xx

  3. i wrote one of those to my 35 year old self on the eve of my 27th birthday (february 2008). it too mentioned a novel, along with yogging, a haircut, jagerbombs and a stable and happy adult relationship.

    i'm getting there.

  4. you should bake cakes and buns then sell them from a stall on the side of the road...