Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
How old will I be? 34? Shit. . . there is nothing sadder than being 34. But there is the alternative. Death?
Death. I'll be doing the same thing I do now.
Just enough to get by. It's hard to say where I'll be when I'm doing that.
Ha! I'm laughing a good natured laugh until my sides hurt.
Is that funny to you?
Yes it is and I'll tell you why. I'm far too immature to own a husband. Don't you have to feed and water them? When I leave on holiday, do I have to take it with me?
This is also funny?
Hasn't the world gotten itself into enough trouble following God's lead? I need nothing made in my image.
So where will you be?
That "where" again. I don't know "where." I don't even know if it's necessary to wonder. 10 years is a long ways from now. I have hopes though.
Yeah, I've got prospects, but it hardly matters. Jesus. 34.
That really bothers you?
Yes it does, but it's better than the alternative.
Death and mediocrity, but I'm working on the latter.