FUTURE BECKY

there's a senior housing apartment building kitty corner from our building.  I often see the same lady, day after day, tall, dark curly hair, hunched over as she shuffles to and from on the opposite side of the block.

When I first saw her, I called her "Future Becky"---and felt, this is where my life is going to be if I don't find love, happiness, marriage, a fulfilling career, success and such.

She always seems to haunt me---clad in bright colors, wearing sensible but really cute shoes, mismatched hat from her coat and mittens--and always, always walking.

In many ways, she reflected the way I really live when I'm not cuting myself up to work in advertising, or go to a meeting or out with friends.

I feel like a fraud when it comes to fashion and putting on makeup and such. I don't blow dry my hair and I only wear makeup if I'm "going out".  I typically dress in workout pants, and put on my sports bra and shirt, and expect that I'll work out, sometime that day.  I often don't, but the promise is real.

(It's such a pain for us big-breasted ladies to put on a workout bra, take it off, put on a different bra---the whole bra thing is just a huge pain in the ass to me)

I'd often see Future Becky when I was out on a walk or run, trying to shake out the ghosts of relationships past, anxiety about the future, or during one bad stretch, open-mouth sobbing as I jogged---and there she showed up.

I used to think "Future Becky is FUCKING haunting me".

But, then something changed.  I got happier, or got some perspective or something shifted and I decided I know longer hated or feared this long, stretched-out bent over bean pole of a future me.

(No, dear readers, I didn't decide she deserved her own identity, I'm not that evolved)

But instead, I kind of started to really admire Future Becky.  She's out, no matter what the weather, running her errands on foot.

She's got an amazing sense of style---I don't mean that in a "Oh look at Edie Beale, let's make her a fashion icon"---what I mean is that girlfriend just wears shit that is laying around, and could give 2 fucks.  But her stuff laying around is super-fun, super bright, and she just throws it all on.

She's not smiley at all---she isn't walking down Winnemac to greet the world---Future Becky doesn't bother caring if anyone likes her---she's got shit to do!

And, most of all, she's alone.  Maybe the real lady is lonely, or maybe she loves her life---but in my mind, Future Becky, observes all the newest shops and hotspots in the neighborhood, takes it all in from her limited view, and goes home and writes about it.

I know have grown to LOVE Future Becky. I've often tried to speak to her, say hello, let Pickle wander a bit in her area as an icebreaker, but she will have NONE of it!

Maybe I'm a ghost, and Future Becky can't see Past Becky?  That would be kind of fun.

I love her, and I don't know the real her, but tonight, on a Thursday eve on a rainy March night, future Becky got dropped off by a pal (not an UBER! not a LYFT) at 745 pm and shuffled on home.  Good for you Future Becky!  I hope you saw a movie you loved, or had dinner with a pal, or had a date with Future Man-to-Appear and now get to go home and read a really good book while you pet your dog.

The Future's so bright...I gotta wear an 80's peach, down jacket out in the chilly eve.