The Future Me
This morning while I was getting my car serviced, I went to the McDonald's next door to have breakfast and use their WiFi. While I'm sitting there reading the Gallup Business Journal online, I saw the future me walk in.
The gentlemen looked about sixty with a thick white moustache. He wore brown sandals, tan shorts, and a solid-colored red t-shirt. On his face rested glasses worn by and through age, with a baseball cap atop his head to cover his bald head. He was thin and engaged, carrying with him a copy of the local newspaper as he found a seat to put down his coffee. Likely retired, but he was there before 7:30 a.m. to get his morning cup of joe. I should also add, he was wearing a green fanny pack in which he carried his wallet, cell phone, and glasses instead of placing them in his pocket.
As I reflect on this moment, I sorely regret not introducing myself and asking a few questions about his life. What's your name? Where are you from? What did/do you do for a living? Other thoughts also arose. Am I going to come back to Bradenton and retire here after years away living elsewhere around the country/world? Where do I see myself even just five years from now?
Perhaps these questions are symptoms of junior year, of crossing the threshold from "You can always change your mind to something else" to "You need to get some plans together for after you finish your Bachelor's". While I can't control time's length or pace, I do hope to make these last two years count.
The gentlemen looked about sixty with a thick white moustache. He wore brown sandals, tan shorts, and a solid-colored red t-shirt. On his face rested glasses worn by and through age, with a baseball cap atop his head to cover his bald head. He was thin and engaged, carrying with him a copy of the local newspaper as he found a seat to put down his coffee. Likely retired, but he was there before 7:30 a.m. to get his morning cup of joe. I should also add, he was wearing a green fanny pack in which he carried his wallet, cell phone, and glasses instead of placing them in his pocket.
As I reflect on this moment, I sorely regret not introducing myself and asking a few questions about his life. What's your name? Where are you from? What did/do you do for a living? Other thoughts also arose. Am I going to come back to Bradenton and retire here after years away living elsewhere around the country/world? Where do I see myself even just five years from now?
Perhaps these questions are symptoms of junior year, of crossing the threshold from "You can always change your mind to something else" to "You need to get some plans together for after you finish your Bachelor's". While I can't control time's length or pace, I do hope to make these last two years count.