That is the only part about Saturday Night Live that I think is hilarious. However, don’t get your hopes up. Today’s blog will not be that funny. Or even funny at all. Sorry, but I’m not one dimensional. You might not like the other sides to my personality, but since you’re already here, you might as well read my post anyway.
My sister and I went garage saleing. We were by far the youngest ones hitting the pavement. We were asked many times what school we go to. Note to self: buy a shirt that says, “I’m an adult” to prove how mature you are. At garage sales, I look for books. Books in good condition without anyone’s name written inside. Memoirs and novels that won awards or at least have Oprah’s “O” on them. And in one woman’s garage, I found my book soulmate: she was selling all the books you read in high school English classes, which are exactly the type of books I like. She overheard me gushing about her to Amber and told us, “you guessed what I do: I’m a retired high school English teacher.”
So I told her that was my dream job: to teach reading and writing. Then, when she was giving me change, I noticed the book at her feet: she is reading the same book I am! I realized I was staring into the face of Future Me. We even looked a bit a like. And Amber chimed in that we were wearing nearly identical clothes. Future Me has style: black sweat pants – I like where I’m going. We drove off and I waved goodbye to her (rather enthusiastically). Yet she was too engrossed in her book to notice. That only confirmed my suspicion: I have met my future.