Chris Biscuits was ruminating on his blog whether his future-me would be a prat and it reminded me that future-me is my favourite Friday Night thought experiment. We ask: what are we going to be up to in 2040? And then we keep drinking beer until we get a satisfactory answer.
One of my friends periodically sends this around to remind us where we’ll be in a couple of decades.
That’s me, rockin’ the peach jumpsuit. I hope. I don’t want to be the other lady in the tights. And I definitely don’t want to be that dude.
Strangely, we are in America. Which either means that you have universal health care by then (because I don’t plan on being in good shape at all) or you’ve taken us over. Or we take you over and keep your flag because it’s jazzier than ours. Or we’re on an inspiring holiday. Whatever it is, I look forward to meeting that gentleman in the snazzy top.
I even made a pinterest page to illustrate future-me, but as with most pinterest projects it is only half done and does not accurately reflect what I wanted it to. So I am going to hash it out here for you all.
Introducing Future-Rollergiraffe
Exhausted from my years of tireless land conservation activism, single-handedly reversing anthropogenic climate change, and selling jam at farmer’s markets, future me is retired and living the good life.
Look at all that frigging canning. My family never ate any of it; I should have started on the market thing already.
I wear a lot of hats in by then. If history is any lesson, it’s because I steal them from the mother of the groom at weddings, but hopefully in the future I am sensible enough to purchase them for myself.
This is nearly an exact replica of a hat I stole at a wedding. Don’t worry, I gave it back. (KCS Hats)
I am quite fond of hammocks, but I currently live in a climate where it would be suicide to use one for about 8 months of the year. The other four months it is just extremely uncomfortable. So I want to purchase this hammock, but more importantly I want to purchase the front porch it hangs on. With cabana boys.
Glorious tropical loveliness. I am ignoring the fact that there would be giant spiders everywhere. (from hammocks.com)
In the future, this cake will be presented to me on my birthday every year. By the cabana boys.
Look, it even has my name on it! (from cakewrecks.com)
Current me co-owns bees, but future me owns a whole menagerie on a biodynamic farm. No, scratch that, my biodynamic winery. On my private island. Future me really knows how to live.
This is more or less how I roll (from marineecotours.com)
And I will still get around everywhere on my Pashley, because it is the bestest bike that ever was made in the history of bikes and I will be buried with it.
I expect both me and the pashley to be a lot more banged up by then.
Future me is also pretty unapologetic about dancing in the front row at jazz festivals, has a morning writing ritual, and does yoga every day. I am pretty goddamn awesome in the future.
I should add that current me is an unemployed house wife with a basement full of expired canning. But I feel hopeful. What does your future-me look like?
the rollergiraffe 