Dear future hubster

Dear future hubster, have you noticed how life is but a sequence of choices? If I put on sunglasses to walk to the bathroom across the parking lot, I feel stupid. If I don't, I look angry. Not to mention wrinkles. You understand my dilemma, don't you?

Dear future hubster, let's focus on the important things. Can we stop this three kisses on the cheek business already? It's tiring, confusing, and utterly unnecessary. One is largely enough. In most cases, that already is a generous gesture. I'd rather just wave.

Dear future hubster, I don't know how much it tells about my commitment issues, but I never fully unpack.

Dear future hubster, sometimes, when you spend a weekend in a haze, captured and overwhelmed by what is happening in the big world, and in your own little world, and first you're shocked and your emotions overtake and overbear your day, but then it pushes you further down the road to question your patterns of thinking, the way you form your opinions, what you consider important and why - you spend those days entirely isolated from the outside world, looking out your window at the rainy streets, feeling that everything is so unreal. But then comes Monday, and Mondays, dear future hubster, are powerful creations. It still rains, you're still processing the mandatory regular changes of your own little world, but in the meantime, you have to go on with your mundane routines of putting on clothes, getting to work, declaring " there is cake in my office ", fighting with the coffee machine (and losing), pushing paper and interacting with people.  And then you find you...

Dear future hubster, have you ever considered how making (new) friends is a deeply unnerving experience, requiring quite some courage? Basically, you meet a person, observe them for a while, evaluate their pros and cons, and at some point you decide. You decide to willingly make yourself exposed and vulnerable, and say: "Hey, you, person! I kinda like you. So here you go: all my dirty little secrets, teenage crushes, barely acceptable political views, complete ignorance in most domains, questionable choices in the 3M (music, movies and men), cheap wisdom and childish manners, on a silver tray. Over to you. Please be gentle, this is all I have." And all this leap of faith based on what? That it worked out last time you tried? 

Dear future hubster, if you've been on the road for a certain amount of time and are longing for a real bed and not having to dig in your suitcase every single morning, then it doesn't matter that you're not citizen of the country you're going back to. When, after 5 hours of waiting in transit, finally they call your last flight for boarding, you will say, and mean it: "At last. I'm going home."