In 20 years...

So there I was, having a very normal, relaxing day.

Granted my brain was suffering from acute boredom, but that was nothing that couldn't be cured with a little English Class. I absolutely adore English. The creative writing, the expressive gestures, the intense plots interwined throughout literature. It makes me cry, I'm so happy in that class. Anyway, our teacher started this new thing, where she writes an essay prompt on the board, and we have exactly 5 minutes to write as much as we can on said prompt. The minimum amount is 3/4ths of a page. I know it doesn't seem like much, but when you're attempting to gather your thoughts, and your hand's cramping things can get real intense, real quick,

but that's not what I want to talk about. The essay prompt is what really sparked my intense desire to write this post.

Here's what she wrote:

In 20 years I will be...

And it really got me thinking. In 20 years where will I be?

Will I finally make it through college and become that food scientist wearing one of those dashing white lab coats that flatter everyone?

Will I be sweating in the congo, embracing the culture and eating larvae on a stick on a mission trip?

Will I have a family, with a thousand kids all running around? Now if that happened I'm pretty sure it'd go something like..

 
Coral: We still have to name them...
Marlin: You wanna name all of 'em, right now? All right.
Marlin: [points to the eggs on the left side of the nest] We'll name this half Marlin Jr.,
Marlin: [points to the eggs on the right side] And then this half Coral Jr. Okay, we're done.
[Marlin leaves]
Coral: I like Nemo.
Marlin: [Comes back] Nemo? Well, we'll name one Nemo, but I'd like most of them to be Marlin Jr.

 (Except my Nemo will probably be Gandalph, or Frodo, or Matt Smith, or Shang, or Zuko, or Ralph, or Flynn Rider, or Ping, or... well you get the point)...

Will I travel the world?

Will I have accomplished my hopes and dreams?

Will I be an impending midlife crisis just waiting to happen?

Will I still be single and alone with a dozen chickens and a hamster named Peanut?

Will I get to own that volkswagon bug painted like a lady bug?

Will I be successful?

Will I be legendary?

And I realized, after all of this... It doesn't really matter where I am in 20 years. It's the journey of getting there that counts. Maybe I'll finally be able to look Matt Smith in the eye and say, "Hello, Sweetie" (River song is as close to perfection as you can get as a woman), or maybe I'll be a homeless 30 yr old, still living in their parents basement playing call of duty with no ambitions. Who knows? I can only hope, that in 30 years, instead of being boring old Rebecca, I'll be Rebecca 2.0.... Changed for the better. As long as I'm a better person then than I am now. I think I'll be okay.

Favorite Quote for the Day:

The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas!