Note to self

2 p.m.

I recently received a letter from my 18-year old self.

Cue the “Dawson’s Creek” theme song.

I can’t decide if the letter is sweet and innocent or downright mortifying.

It was one of those, “I wanna read but I don’t wanna read” things and when I finally did read it, I made a pained face.

Parts of the handwritten note were riddled with teen angst. In fact, a good two pages focused on boy/girl drama.

Other parts were hilariously endearing with gems like:

“As you enter the business world, Kate, use your charm, knowledge and personality to obtain success.”

Did I really say “charm?”

I was also deeply philosophical and clearly wise beyond my 18 years with profound statements such as, “Remember, Kate, success isn’t measured in monetary terms but in happiness.”

If you’re not rolling your eyes, you should be. Because I am. And, I’m starting to wonder if I had any friends in high school. I mean, I wouldn’t hang out with me.

Other parts of the letter were downright ridiculous. I thought it necessary to include a list of my favorite foods at the time. Among the winners:

  • Ocean Spray’s Cran-Grape. I guess it’s better than vodka.
  • Chicken and rice. Adventurous!
  • Cookie Crisp cereal. What mother buys their kid that crap?

Are you wowed by my worldly palette?

(If you’re wondering why Diet Coke isn’t on the list. It would be another few years before I forged that relationship.)

Other critical details the letter included:

  • My height and weight. I was lying about it then, too. At least I’m consistent.
  • My shoe size. Still big.
  • And, quips such as, “Never forget where you’re from.” Because I was raised on the mean streets of Overland Park, Kan.?

My mentor encouraged me to write another letter to myself to open a decade from now.

Cran-Grape probably won’t make that list but another grape “juice” will.

3:05 p.m.

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