🌻 same old - by Jasmine Sun - half-baked futures

Every December, I sit down to write a note on how the year went. They used to read like something halfway between a Medium listicle and a brag sheet: 50 books read, 14 courses taken, 4 continents hit. I felt a lot of pride about being the kind of person who couldn’t pick a major, refused to line up a job, and was always on the cusp of starting a big new project. I can’t write that kind of post for 2022: it’d be exceptionally boring. When friends ask what’s new, I say not much, and I mean it. Most of my active waking hours go toward Substack (two years strong), Reboot (nearly on year three), or hanging out with the same people I’ve known since middle school, high school, and college. I moved from New York to San Francisco in August, but have mostly stayed put since—it’s the first in possibly five years that I haven’t left the United States. I’ve even managed to avoid picking up any new Bay Area hobbies—no climbing, woodworking, or 5am hikes. Sometimes I worry that I’m settling too early

Every December, I sit down to write a note on how the year went. They used to read like something halfway between a Medium listicle and a brag sheet: 50 books read, 14 courses taken, 4 continents hit. I felt a lot of pride about being the kind of person who couldn’t pick a major, refused to line up a job, and was always on the cusp of starting a big new project. I can’t write that kind of post for 2022: it’d be exceptionally boring. When friends ask what’s new, I say not much, and I mean it. Most of my active waking hours go toward Substack (two years strong), Reboot (nearly on year three), or