Today I've been going through folders of stuff I wrote in high school. It appears that one day in my freshman computers class I typed some big goals out (answering the prompt "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?) :
"In ten years I will be 24 years old and almost 25. I will be a world famous rock star with solo albums and albums with my best friend Sarah C# Sullivan. I will have a house in Wick, Great Britain, and I will have an awesome English accent. If I don’t make it in the record world, I will own a music store that will have a giant jar of peppermint sticks that everyone will take all the time. I will be finished with college at Brigham Young University and I will have majored in music. I will have a really shiny black piano in the middle of my living room and I will direct the church choir with my really hot piano-playing husband, who will write songs with me."
There's still time, you guys.
Still time.
"In ten years I will be 24 years old and almost 25. I will be a world famous rock star with solo albums and albums with my best friend Sarah C# Sullivan. I will have a house in Wick, Great Britain, and I will have an awesome English accent. If I don’t make it in the record world, I will own a music store that will have a giant jar of peppermint sticks that everyone will take all the time. I will be finished with college at Brigham Young University and I will have majored in music. I will have a really shiny black piano in the middle of my living room and I will direct the church choir with my really hot piano-playing husband, who will write songs with me."
There's still time, you guys.
Still time.
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