Writing challenge, Day 14: your life in seven years

Seven years from now it will be 2022. The '20s. Hopefully it will be a second Roaring '20s with an economy that's booming, where everyone who wants a job will have one. Let's hope that unlike the last decade we called "the Roaring '20s," this one doesn't end in a depression. We've had enough of that.

But today's post is supposed to be what I think my life will be like in seven years. That means I get to play fortune teller. Keep in mind that if you want your palm read by me, you'll get a nice coat of red paint all over it. Just remember who you're dealing with.

Speculation is the key word here, but first some facts. In 2022 I will celebrate my 63nd birthday. My car will be 20 years old (I drive them a long time; remember my Day 4 post). We'll have just six more years on our mortgage. Diana will be in her early thirties. We'll still be waiting for flying cars and hoverboards.

Now for the fun part: speculation. I got sick and tired of looking for work and not finding anyone willing to hire me, so I created my own job. Companies like a person that they can hire for the duration of a project and no longer. And if you're good, you can name your price. I earn an average of $100/hour for my writing. I've been lucky to get in with some new-to-Ventura County employers. Most weeks I work 40-50 hours, but I enjoy it so it flies by. My blog went viral and a developer wants to build a theme park called "Eric's Planet" with me as a consultant. All of the bills are paid, the mortgage is no more. I don't like the idea of retiring because I'm enjoying my work so much. I can write on a cruise ship, can't I? But where are the damned flying cars and hoverboards?!?!?

Next time, I'll vent a little about three pet peeves. Stay fumed.