A few vivid memories of everyday life in the suburbs somewhere in New South Wales in 1986: Hanging out with my crew of hair-hacked Barbie dolls; Being petrified of burglars; Exercising my right to eat ice cream like it was a vital organ supplement; Idolising my fourteen year old neighbour who in my eyes was a fully-fledged woman who’d made it in life; Sitting as close as humanly possible to the TV every Saturday night from seven pm watching Dannii Minogue and the others sing the greatest songs ever on the greatest show on earth Young Talent Time.

It was also at this point, somewhere between the ages of four and five, that I can recall for the first time really thinking about Life in Fast Forward – what existence would be like in the future.

My flagship reoccurring vision wasn’t a pipe dream, I perceived it as inevitable: Future Me at sixteen driving a red convertible with my best friends, radio up, having fun all the time. I had a boyfriend too, but he was never in the car with us. He was very cool and very good looking though. That’s as elaborate as the visualisation ever got. But that was enough. I was loving the future.

I hit sixteen in Real Time in the late 1990’s and looking back, my projection wasn’t too far off – it was all just so incredibly less glossy than my wide-eyed Young Self had imagined.

I was definitely having a lot of fun with friends. My red convertible eventually emerged at seventeen, except it was my Mum’s Toyota Cressida when she would lend it to me and later, a Holden Astra called Madonna who I loved dearly even though she cost thousands of dollars in mechanics bills and had an interior that never stopped smelling like Plasticine. I also did alright in the hot boyfriend stakes, although some were undeniably cooler than others.

Great Expectations can take an unjust shine off things that materialise in reality to be pretty great in their own right. I still try so hard not to apply the future visionary gloss on life, but I always do it.

Like before I go on holidays. I envisage the villa or the apartment or whatever it is and picture different scenarios, like people hanging out in the living room on giant couches; sitting around a big wooden table drinking out the back by the pool; people dotted across the kitchen bench while others cook. When I actually get to the place though, the couch is L-shaped; the layout of the pad is all switched up; the deck faces east instead of west. It’s all still amazing, it’s just completely different to what I had imagined in my head.

If you give me a choice between high expectations or low though, I’m always going to push for up. Some people default to setting the bar a few rungs lower.

A bit like the bar someone set for me recently. I was visiting a friend at her place and her husband came over to join us for a chat. After a few customary How’s Life questions he asked me if I was seeing anyone at the moment. My answer was no. He then went on to provide me with an unsolicited evaluation of a very important part of my future life: in his view, considering I’m in my early thirties, there was really only two options in terms of the type of guys who were still out and about and available to marry.

Option One: the Divorcee.

Option Two: a loose guy who is lacking direction and doesn’t know what he wants in life. If he’s not married by his 30’s, that had to be the case.

I adore my friend’s husband, but this was a bit heavy going for a Saturday mid-morning. To say I was slightly underwhelmed by his forecast of my Man Future would be an understatement. Option One I am fine with. People make mistakes or get to a point where they decide they can’t resolve whatever issues it is that they are facing and need to move on. It was Option Two I didn’t particularly agree with. If he doesn’t happen to be a Divorcee, I’m pretty sure the guy I do end up marrying hasn’t been mulling around the house for years-on-end smoking bongs and watching infomercials waiting for me to call. He’s probably been out in the world doing stuff, like I have. I don’t think that’s me applying too much Future Gloss either.

There’s no doubt that there are some tough things about being Single. There’s also some great things. Like the fact that it’s actually really exciting knowing that the man you are going to tear up life with is still to come – a monumental new player to enter the people pool.

I know life doesn’t usually turn out the way you imagine it will, but it’s still fun thinking about the future. I’m sticking with Great Expectations too.

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