I don’t suppose it is age-appropriate to write to oneself. If I were a blushing teenager there would be no problem. I am, however, an aging man who’s expected to by now have figured out where his place is under the sun. I am far from that. I still spend the remaining minutes I have at work listening to Coldplay or worse counting the final seconds until I call it quits. I die to go home and to listen to some acid jazz number on my way.
So here I am now drafting a dear-self.
My honesty with you can only be to a certain extent as I know the extent to which you can take my honest opinion of you. You’re someone who does not take a criticism too easily and well.
And I hate that you do not finish your thought and stop in the middle of a sente… .
There you go.
So you end your post here because something comes along and you think nothing can be of more consequence.