Letter from Your Alternate Timeline Self Who Is Doing Better Than You And For Some Reason Is Your Next Door Neighbor

Dear me,

Like you, I'm completely baffled as to what kind of occurence in the space/time continuum could cause us to somehow be living in the same timeline, and as neighbors no less. If I didn't know better I'd think we were characters in a sitcom, possibly on the WB, and probably not destined to last for more than half a season.

Since we're NOT on TV, however, I would be much obliged if you would stop acting as if we were. For one, I know the garbage on my lawn is from you. For two, I know the awkward prank phone calls are from you. You might not remember this, depending on how far back in the past you and I begin to diverge, but we were never good at disguising our voice, thinking up hilarious things on the fly, or even talking on the phone. Of course, I learned how to interact with human beings on a direct basis. You're probably still online every night, and I bet I could find what message boards you haunt within three tries. Think I'm bluffing? Three words, chump: Lisa. Loeb. Online.

You are not allowed to use my trampoline. I saved up for months just to buy it and I'll be damned if you're going to enjoy it for free. Yes, that's petty and childish, but as you know, that's me.

Also, stop going to my office and pretending to be me. They know how to tell us apart, ass, and nothing you've done there has ever hurt my standing with the partnership. I'm sorry you don't have a job that actually supports you, but you knew that dropping out of college to join a band carried certain consequences for dumb shits stupid enough to drop out of college to join a band. Oh look at me, I play in a band! I'm not like all the other dorks at Sam Ash! Why aren't people paying me to play them several minor variations on the G, C, and D progression?

And yes, I do indeed find it ironic that we seemed destined to participate in music in some form or another. After that, I find it infuriating, because you play so often and so terribly that I can't write anything without thinking that I'm just doing the same thing you would.

If that wasn't enough reason for me to be furious at you - and it is - then you top yourself with all the crap you toss Hilary's way. I'm going to say it one final time. Back. Off. I'm sorry that your Hilary left you - truly I am as marrying her was the best thing I've ever done - but that doesn't mean that MY Hilary still loves YOU. From the long, rambling emails you send her, apparently you just weren't interesting enough to make it worth maintaining the relationship. You don't say that, of course, but I know me and I can read between the lines in an instant. You still quote from the "Stonecutters" episode of The Simpsons, for god's sake.

I could go on and on, but I'm going to wrap this up now, as I'm going to BED with my WIFE so I can be with her before I go to WORK tomorrow. Stop leeching off of me just because I was brave enough to live the life you want to live. You're like a mangy dog begging at the door for scraps. You're a constant reminder of how shitty my life could have gone, how easily I can sink into my old routines. You depress me.

I left you behind and I'll be damned if I pick you back up.