Why I love the Redhead.

She's one of my all-time favorite people. She's also a much better writer than I am, which makes me happy that I read her blog. Today includes a reflective entry about where she thought she'd be in 10 years. As she frequently does, she inspired my thoughts to turn to the same subject, and it's something I haven't thought about in well, 10 years.

10 years ago, my life was in turmoil. My parents were splitting up. I was flunking classes, I was in counseling, I was a general mess, I lost my job as RA. The only things that seemed to be going right was my job at Kaplan and the fact that I was very much in love with my girlfriend. My life perspective was rather good, though- I wanted to get married and have kids. I wanted to get my career as a translator going, and was taking 3 languages and linguistics classes up the wazoo. I had goals and the drive to get there. Life had a roadmap, and I knew where I was.

So, I imagine you're wondering, as I often do, what the hell happened?

Who knows. I have no regrets, that's for sure- at least not about that time. I made decisions and I've stuck by them. I am not a translator. As a matter of fact, my experience in counseling and my parents divorce led me to pursue a psychology degree in counseling. My dad thought that I had a knack for it, after talking him and my mother through their divorce. That goal went unrealized as well, as I decided that sleep and dream research would be more fun, until I dropped out of college when I was 22. Kaplan eventually wore me down to a bitter, cyncial worker bee, and I wound up quitting after working there almost 10 years. I have yet to get married or have any children. I have yet to complete my bachelor's degree.

I'm not complaining. I had fun, got in a lot of trouble, got out of it, and got back in to some more. I'm good at that. I've seen the country, lived in fun places and discovered great friends. I've found love and heartache. It's all good.

Would the 20-year-old me like the 30-year-old me? I'm sure once I started telling stories of what was to come he would. After all, I've done some crazy ass shit, and sometimes it's really damn funny.

No more reflecting, for the rest of the day.

Promise.