I can’t tell you how many times I wish I could go back in time to tell myself something. For starters, I would tell myself not to see any of the Sex and the City movies.
Then I would tell myself not to waste my time even trying to read the horrible writing that is The Twilight Series. If I wanted to read bad grammar and poor writing, I would read this blog.
So I decided to write myself a letter…and address it to Lisa from 2 hours ago. I realize I probably can’t go back in time and read this letter to myself.
However, I don’t completely understand the space-time concept, but that’s partly because I can’t take Albert Einstein and his space-time theories seriously.
I refuse to believe anything that comes from someone who can’t seem to master the concept of a hairbrush and a dab of hair gel. (This is yet another reason I can’t get on board with Justin Beiber…homeboy needs a comb.)
But assuming a respected scientist with a grasp of hair products comes along and explains the space time continuum to me, I want to be ready to go back in time and give myself some tips. So here is the letter I wrote to myself if I could go back in time just 2 hours.
If I could go back in time further back than that, the letter would be far too long to post here…and far too depressing to read. I figured 2 hours was a good time frame.
Dear Lisa from two hours ago,
Hi, it’s me….Lisa from your future. Put down the remote control and read this for a minute. Gossip Girl can wait, and so can those cookies. (Okay, you can have one).
Here’s some advice you should take for tonight. You probably won’t take this advice (because you won’t take the time to read a letter that doesn’t have pictures or smiley faces,) but please read on to prevent issues for this evening.
I know you love to eat. Who doesn’t? But please, take this advice. Do NOT eat the entire bag of Cheez-Its. Don’t do it. Yes, their cheesy goodness is delicious, and yes, I understand that licking the artificial cheese powder off your fingers is the best part about the carb-loaded snack.
But puh-lease heed my advice and lay off the box. Stop about halfway through. You won’t be sorry.
Throw on a bra before you greet the pizza delivery guy at the door. Although you prefer to be comfortable while in your own home, the local Domino’s branch doesn’t want a workers compensation claim of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from the delivery guy because you can’t seem to throw on a support bra before pulling the piping pizza from his hands.
Don’t waste your time with the generic toilet paper. You need more than 2 ply to get through the night, especially if you disregarded numbers one and two above (and I know you did. You can’t resist carbs).
Do yourself a favor, spend the extra bucks, and buy the Charmin instead of the store brand. You don’t want to discover that you literally have a chapped ass by the end of the night. Your ass will thank you.
Don’t turn on the heater. Yes, it’s April and it’s 37 degrees tonight, but you live in the Midwest, where the weather is almost as bipolar as you are.
So hold off on firing up the heater, because by tomorrow afternoon the sunny skies and 90 degree weather will necessitate air conditioning…and an increase in your dosage of meds. (Which reminds me…start looking for a house and a job in Florida…where the weather is nice and the tornado sirens are silent.)
Lay off on the peanut butter in the dogs’ Kongs. Although it’s true the peanut butter Kongs keep them quiet for one delightful hour, it’s overshadowed by the next hour, which you will spend cleaning up dog shit on the living room rug.
Since I’m sure you disregarded #3 above, you will already be sick of dealing with poo, so this advice is especially important.
Love, your favorite person in the world,
Lisa from the future