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Wednesday, December 1, 2010

dreams of the future and dear blanks.

So lately, every night before I go to bed I imagine what the perfect future for me would be. It makes me smile. So when I have a bad day or pms or bdd, I just imagine the perfect future and everything seems a bit better.

So here it is.

In the future, I will look good in anything I wear. Even if I look like that fat chick from drop dead gorgeous, I will rock that look. My best outfit will be a purple blazer and black pants, and I can get away with wearing hand painted shoes that don't match. I will know portion control and I will not purge or deny myself anything. I will not smoke, and my favorite drink will be 0 calorie flavored water.
I will have a customized jeep and at least three published books. I will own my own practice, along with the building that holds my offices. I will use art therapy and learn a lot about my patients.
I will be able to relate to my patients, and I will make a big difference in the world.
I'll have a big house by the beach and a dog that doesn't shed. I will only drink alcohol socially. At the end of every year I will hold a banquet in my ballroom for my office staff and the group therapy patients.
I will come home at 6PM and work out for half an hour to an hour ONLY.
Oh, and money. I'll be a registered dietitian as well as a licensed therapist so I'll charge about 200 dollars an hour. working from 8 to 5:30, that's...1600 a day! Take out about 300 to pay my nurses. But still, that's pretty awesome.
And once a week I'll go to the beach and just...think, you know? Think about how far I've come and how proud I am of myself.

What's your dream future?

Oh and dear blanks! A couple of my favorites:

Dear Stanford,
That's OK. I like Community College better anyway... :(
Sincerely, Rejected.

Dear Crazy People,
I'm not going to blow this grocery store up, I just need some salad.
Sincerely, an American Muslim.

Dear World,
Please stop freaking out about 2012. Our calendar ends there because some Spanish d-bags invaded our country and we got a little busy...
Sincerely, the Mayans.

Dear dad,
It's not 'disobedience,' it's 'delayed obedience.'
Sincerely, your lazy daughter.

Dear giant spider on my wall,
Please die. Please die. Please die. Please die. CRAP! Where did you go?
Sincerely, Terrified.

Dear teacher who is erasing the board,
You missed a spot!
Sincerely, your OCD student.


  1. I'm so glad I don't live in America. $200 an hour for therapy?
    How is anyone besides the rich supposed to even allow themselves to THINK of getting better.
    How are you meant to make the world a better place if you expect everyone with EDs or issues to have that kinda money?

  2. love the delayed obedience one