If I knew then...

If I knew then: An open letter to my former self.

Dear 21 year old me,
I can't believe you fucking thought about flying home to Bloomington for little 5 when you were abroad. Do you realize that you just got back from a vacation of a vacation of a vacation? College is a vacation, studying abroad is a vacation, and when you would jet set every weekend to some new European nation that was a vacation from abroad. You were basically in the 3rd level of some crazy Inception party? Never mind, you'll understand that reference in a few years.

So here is the thing. I'm writing you this letter because I know things now, that you didn't or don't. You are entering your senior year of college and you think that you are probably going to straight into the strategy department of Proctor and Gamble (spoiler alert: You are going to fuck around in Chicago all summer and your internship will go mediocre at best, it's cool, when you don't get the offer just tell people you weren't into selling cancer sticks, they'll totally support you) Not going to happen. What about an agency? No. Buyer at some major retail conglomorate? No, the economy is about to collapse and none of those fun jobs are going to exist. In fact none of those cool "marketing" jobs you think you are going for happen without an MBA. If you want to you could probably switch your major to ops and get a few interviews with big 4 consulting firms in Chicago, but that will really cut back on the amount of partying you are going to be able to do in the next 4 years.

Yes that's right, believe it or not life continues after college. You have a little bit of money, but unfortunately because of that you have a little bit of responsibility. That whole thing where you just went out every night and threw everything on the family credit card? Ya, that shit is about to end, really quick. When you get your first call from Chase and realize your mom didn't cover your last month's payment, shred that shit immediately.

So this is what's up. You are going to get a shitty job in Chicago, start raging a lot to make up for your apathy towards this whole life transition, but at some point you are going to have to man up and grow up at least a little bit. People are going to change, not everyone will hop on board with your hedonistic lifestyle, I'm not telling you that you have to change or adapt to the people around you, just don't be surprised when certain people stop answering your texts on Friday nights. Believe it or not, there is a faction of people out there who don't subscribe to the "flatlines until 6 in the morning" lifestyle.

You're early 20's are fucking weird, you are going to still have random one night stands with chicks you meet at bars, but you will also have to lie to coworkers about drugs and why you're late. Your boss won't be impressed by the fact that you had to kick a girl out of bed after going on a "purple drink" binge. Road trips are still fun, you can actually pay for a vacation or two and you're still living with your college friends most likely. It's just that now you have to cram a week's worth of fun into 2 nights instead of 6. It grows tiresome.

People will eventually drop off the band wagon, maybe they'll move in with a significant other or they'll just see the value of staying in on a Saturday night and watching a movie. It doesn't mean that everyone else is lame or that you are a psycho, it's just that people start valuing different things. Things will be strange, you may even find yourself falling in love for the first time, but eventually you are going to start realizing that Chicago isn't the place for you.

And then one day you'll sack up and decide to move west, leaving everything you care about, everything that means the world to you back in the midwest...but you just go because you know it's where you need to go to chase your dreams (that and you may or may not get fired because of a blog very similar to this.) You'll realize when you get there..."well what the fuck, why did I bust my ass getting a Kelley degree for only to make 25k at a dead end sales job and then move to Los Angeles where I want nothing to do with business." Little tip pal, there is NO money in being a struggling writer. Well maybe if you fucking sell something but good luck. You are going to be super broke. The people in LA will be nothing like you and it will be frustrating. There will be high school drop outs that are infinitely more successful than you. People won't know where Indiana is.

But every day could be the day you break. So for the next 4 years, just don't worry about trivial things, job, friends, money. Don't worry about a fucking thing, because some day you'll be sitting here in LA one day away from catching a star.

Signed,
25 year old you.