I will only eat smoothies for breakfast. I will make them myself using kale, spinach, berries, and a hint of almond butter, for texture. They will be tasty and filling.
I will wake up every morning at 6:30 am, fully-rested, and go on a 6-mile run. I’ll enjoy it the entire time.
I will not have to worry about Republicans not keeping a senile president who hates people who look like me in check.
I will appreciate the artfulness of daily routine. My studio apartment will be my artist’s studio. My neighborhood will be my canvas. My un-airconditioned 1 train will be my inspiration.
I will be able to listen to the Hamilton cast recording without crying.
I will become the go-to voice of modern culture at my workplace. The arbiter of good taste. Suck it, Brandon… Mr. I-Spent-All-the-Summers-of-my-Childhood-in-Barcelona. Who’s the cultured one now?
I will go to the Whitney Museum.
I will Google where the Whitney Museum is located.
I bet Brandon doesn’t even know where the Whitney Museum is located.
I will not be completely terrified every time I see a white man wearing a red hat.
All my lunches will be Soylent.
Or alternately, Sweetgreen.
I will never be hungry.
I will get fucking ripped.
I’ll leave my job at the Outback Steakhouse and somehow start working as a graphic designer at West Elm.
I will not have to learn graphic design. I guess I’m just a natural.
The figurative hole in my gut that has been festering since November 8th, 2016 will begin to heal.
So will the literal hole in my gut.
I will know SO much about contemporary photographers.
I will own a coffee table book of artistic nudes.
My breath will always be minty-fresh.
I will be able to look at an American flag without that feeling of anger.
I will text Claire again.
Claire will text me back.
I will go to the movies alone.
If Claire doesn't text back. But she will.
I’ll enjoy the flavor of matcha.
I will not have to worry about no one in government questioning the insane, racist, utterly inhumane immigration policies that Stephen Miller has successfully pushed through for almost two years.
I will be able to look at the Statue of Liberty and not let out a long sigh followed by a brief moment of silence. Then just walk away.
I will finally shake off that feeling that moving to the US was a mistake.
I will floss every day.