There was a blogfest last week about time-travel. You know, if you rec’d a box from the future what would be in it? I didn’t participate, mostly because I don’t recall seeing it before people started posting - my own fault, I can be pretty oblivious at times. But it did get me thinking. I’ve often wondered what sort of message I would send to myself if the person I am today could dispense advice to myself at pivotal times in my history. I think I’ve pretty much figured it out.
So, I'm going to pretend I can visit myself every five years, and have just long enough to get a couple of sentences out before I get pulled back. So here is plan if that ever happens:
Age 5: Burgers and Boogers are not interchangeable terms. They mean different things.
Age 10: Fart and F#¢k are not interchangeable terms. Don’t treat them as such… especially around mom.
Age 15: XXXXX isn’t such a great girl. Don’t get bent out of shape over it.
Age 20: Quit being so damned serious. And you’re not as smart as you think you are.
Age 25: Purchase stock in Apple
Age 30: Give up on getting lottery numbers from me. I'm not going to give you any.
Age 35: You know that novel you’ve been revising for the past couple of years? You’re almost done.
Age 40: Just kidding about that novel. Seriously, almost done. Also, here are those lottery numbers.
And that’s about it, any more jumps and I’d be giving advice to future versions of me. Which might be fun, except that I think any version of younger me would be disappointed in how any version of older me turned out. So any future advice would just be, “Quit being such a loser.”