June 15, 2025. It’s a sunny, Tuesday afternoon. I’m actually in an office, FINALLY working. I am happy hear. It’s not difficult, but it’s not too easy. It’s still a learning experience. And my supervisors understand my tough days and know how to deal with them. I’m looking forward to the end of the day, when I get to go home to my family. Not my parents; my actual family that I just started creating. I have found my love, hopefully the one that is pounding at my heart and won’t leave my head these past few months. I can’t force him to be mine, but I can hope. I can toss a penny into the pond and wish on every star. So I hope that the person who greets me with a kiss when I walk through the door is him, but if not, I know that it will be the man that my heart had told me is the one meant for me.
In ten years I see myself with children. If I meet my better half next year, we would have our two beautiful children by 2025. My adorably, humor filled Steven James and my domineering Mackenzie Lynne. She takes after her mother. Perhaps we’d be planning for our third. I’m only 41, after all.
The path in my life that I’m on now does not seem to be going as I had planned. At this point, I should be an English teacher, married, with four children. This all should have begun six years ago, at the ripe old age of 25. I know I was thrown off the path a few years prior, brain exploding, all that jazz, but I should have pulled myself back onto the road. My prince should have been waiting at the end of my path. I should have completed my school, be licensed to assist in the legal field. I somehow keep getting lost, though. So, will I truly be where I see myself in 2025? Hell, I don’t even know where I’ll be tomorrow.