Letters to My Future Centenarian Self: A Humorous Journey Through Time

Dear Centennial Me,

First off, congratulations! You’ve outlasted warranties, trends, and probably a few species. At 100, I can only imagine the level of “back in my day” stories you must be armed with. I’ve always wondered if we’d get to this point, and now that we’re here, I hope the world has finally recognized the unparalleled comfort of wearing socks with sandals as the ultimate fashion statement.

Remember when we used to joke about how we’d be partying it up in the retirement home? Well, I trust you’re now the reigning shuffleboard champion, bringing home the gold for our room—or should I say, our luxury suite? I hope it comes with a view, and not just of the neighbor’s bizarre garden gnome collection.

To the 100-year-old me, are you still trying to figure out the latest gadgets? I can only assume technology now is as bewildering as trying to read hieroglyphics without Rosetta Stone. Please tell me you’ve finally mastered the art of programming the VCR… or whatever equivalent device they’ve come up with that’s likely just as infuriating.

I wonder, have flying cars become a thing yet, or are we still stuck in traffic, albeit in a more sophisticated, self-driving vehicle? If so, I hope you’re using that extra time wisely, perhaps by reminiscing about the days when we had to actually steer. Ah, the nostalgia of manual control!

And speaking of control, how’s your health? I’m picturing you as spry as a spring chicken (albeit one with a bit more seasoning). Please say you’ve taken up yoga or some futuristic form of exercise that allows you to touch your toes without groaning or making those alarming creaking sounds. Also, I trust you’ve kept up with our strict diet of pizza Fridays; some traditions should never die.

On a more serious note, I hope you’ve managed to stay true to yourself despite the century of changes. I like to think that we’ve grown wiser, not just older, and that you’ve collected friends and memories more eagerly than antiques. I’m curious, do you still get a kick out of pulling pranks on unsuspecting neighbors? Or have you graduated to mischievously tampering with their holograms?

Lastly, let’s talk achievements. By now, I hope you’ve ticked off every item on our bucket list, including that moonwalk (and I don’t mean the Michael Jackson kind). But if not, remember, it’s never too late to start. Age is just a number, after all, especially when you’re as timeless as we are.

So here’s to you, my centenarian self. Keep laughing, keep living, and most importantly, keep those socks and sandals on—they’ll be back in style any century now.

Yours humorously and eternally young at heart,

Your 43-year-old self

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