Today I’ve been thinking a lot about my future. This is nothing new to me, I am a Pisces after all. I often get so wrapped up thinking, worrying, dreaming about what future Amy’s life will look like that I forget about present Amy. I forget that present Amy needs her brain to remain in the present. If her mind is always so far off in the future living its best life, then how is Amy ever going to make her dreams a reality?
I often forget that in order to achieve my dreams, I have to do the work now. Silly, right? Like, hey Amy, you can’t just think yourself into a role as editor-in-chief. God, I wish it was that easy.
The truth is, I’m pretty terrified about the future. Nothing scares me more than the thought that I won’t become a magazine editor in New York, that I won’t achieve my dreams. Scary. So I go into a cozy corner of my brain, where my imagination takes me to New York City and plants me in the sky-scrapping offices of Vogue or InStyle.
My imagination never lets me down. It takes me exactly where I want to go exactly when I want to be there. It bypasses the unfortunate, but mandatory rights-of-passage. There’s no living with 14 other roommates in a cramped Manhattan apartment just so I can afford to live my life as an editor and still manage to feed myself and my cat.
In my mind, I’m already living in my Brooklyn loft, enjoying my morning coffee while reading the New York Times. And my cat’s tummy is full of Fancy Feast and she’s basking in the sunshine as it rises over her cat hammock.
In my mind, I’m wearing a fresh pair of jeans from the dryer (a dryer that’s in my apartment), a crisp white tee, and I’ve slipped on my Gucci slides before heading out the door to my office. I swipe on red lipstick from Dior as I hail a cab and make my way to Manhattan.
It’s so nice here in my mind. And it’s so scary to return my brain to present Amy. She’s just going to use it to worry that the future Amy she can see so clearly won’t exist. And that’s scary.