Sometime in the middle of last year, I wrote an email to myself using FutureMe.org, and then promptly forgot all about it.

It was delivered out of the blue, on Friday lunchtime, as requested.

Its contents are too personal (and too dull, probably) to share here, but suffice to say that the PastMe of ten or so months ago was being very bossy indeed with the FutureMe of my thirtieth birthday, making all sorts of demands and pronouncements:

– Have you done such-and-such?
– Are you still x?
– Have you managed to do y by now, and if not, why the bloody hell not you silly woman?
– Look, if you haven’t done z and w by now, or you’re still waiting around for v to happen, you deserve to be punched in the knees very hard. Do something about it!

I’m happy to report that the PastMe of ten months ago would be very proud of the PresentMe indeed (or the FutureMe, as I would have been to her back then. I mean me. Oh, you know what (who?) I mean), as I have somehow managed to complete (and in some cases, exceed) all of her bossy objectives, set in the middle of last summer’s heatwave.

There will therefore be no knee-punching required. Thankfully.