Letter to self

Dear self,

How're yeh copin' wi' lyfe? Stil' hangin' on by a piece o' fibre eh? Aar.. Don' worreh' fibre's tough.

Yea right. Life's tough too isn't it? Heard you haven't been feeling yourself lately, so decided to drop a note of concern. Yes I understand what you're going through. I'm going through the same thing myself. You know, I've been thinking about my future (I'm sure you have too). Funnily enough, everytime I do, the saying 'Jack of all trades; mistress of none (yes, I know it's "master")' floats across my mind. After years of trying to be good at everything, we're both just lucky, average kids after all.

A shocking truth hit me like the Tsunami of December 26, 2004(sounds like primary school composition) as I ran through a list of what i may be potentially good at. The result is this:

Category Commendability Grade

1.) Sports Okay B/ A-

2.) Studies Okay C-
3.) Art Okay C
4.) Personal Relations Okay C
5.) Music Okay C
6.) Writing Used to be okay but
getting worse with C
every GP essay practice
7.) Not looking ridiculous Haha D
8.) Looking ridiculous No room for A+
improvement
9.) Acting (Comedy) Excellent A
10.) Telling lame jokes Can't get any better A

Conclusion? My career options are:

1.) Comedian
2.) Writer of joke books, knock knock books and others of the like
3.) Clown (not in Cirque De Soleil, Quidan or others of the like)
(more of Moscow circus, Bobo the Clown and others of the like)

Dear me (literally), we do seem to have run out of options, don't we? No wonder we're so...aimless. You and I are gonna have to work hard to lighten our guilt. It's terrible, I tell you. I'm such a bloodeh slacker. Yes and so are you. If we don't free ourselves from this reign of terror, we both won't be able to earn peanuts, cashew nuts and wasabi nuts in future.

Anyway, here's wishing you all the best in your future endeavours (you need it). May you succeed in everything you do (haha so like what you would see in an autograph book)!

Yours Truly,

Myself