Three Strikes and You're Mine
Dear Past Me,
Future You here, coming to offer a little advice: hang on for dear life. This summer is going to be a wild one. I know what you’re thinking: Life’s going so well! I don’t have a care in the world! Wrong. That culinary career you love so much? It’s about to go up in smoke, and your boyfriend? Yeah…he’s a goner too. If only love were as simple as, say, actually adding yourself to the lease agreement so you don’t suddenly find yourself loveless, jobless, and homeless!
Did your five-year plan include moving back in with your family and sharing a bed with your Nonna? No? Well, hate to break it to you…it’s exactly as traumatizing as it sounds.
Have you had enough? Too bad. Buckle up—it gets worse. Your new boss is a professional baseball player, and he’s hot, like really hot, but you’ll pretend not to notice because he’s a single dad and it feels wrong to ogle him in front of his innocent child. Unfortunately, he thinks you’re sexy as hell too. Unrequited love is one thing; mutual off-limits pining destined to explode in the worst of ways? What could go wrong…wrong…wrong… (That’s me fading out because you have to take it from here, kid. Good luck! Don’t screw this up for me.)
Your future (wiser) self