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Where you’d like to be in ten years.

This entry is part 8 of 29 in the series 2017 February

Hmm. Ten years. 2027. *shudder* that feels so distant! 41 years old! Ok, seriously.

On the personal front, I want to be with someone, with munchkins. It feels like the right time. I don’t know how many chiddlers would be good for us, because it’ll depend on the us.

I’d like to have a house that feels like ours. Whether that’s a rental or owned, it must be ours.

Professionally, I want some goddamn novels published. Two feels right, and given that I’m aiming for a novel a year, that gives me… five-ish years to find an agent? Not asking for TOO much.

I don’t really care about the day job except to say that I don’t want to have to need it anymore. I probably will, though.

Don’t ask me what continent I want to be on, I don’t have an answer. Maybe one I’ve never been to, like New Zealand.

I suppose if I look back, I pretty much did with my 20s what I wanted to do with them. Establish a stable day job career. Move out. Drive. I did some bonuses, too, like getting LASIK, which was a fabulous idea. I never thought I needed to have a mate by 30, and that’s borne out.

So here’s to having vague life goals.

Photo: Kevin Krejci

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