When I was about ten, I remember having a very hazy idea of what I would eventually end up doing when I was grown-up and didn't live with my parents any more.
I hadn't quite twigged that the majority of my time would be taken up by a regular job; and also I wasn't so much into programming at the time (since I'd sort of taken a two-year break from the whole idea to play computer games instead). One of the things I had just discovered, on the other hand, was the fun of building polyhedra and other models and objects using cardboard and glue.
I vividly remember wondering, in an incoherent sort of way, what I'd be doing around the year 2000. The best idea I could think of was that I'd be doing roughly what I was doing right then, which was sitting at home making cardboard models of things; only since I'd have grown up and left home, I wouldn't have a family around to wave them at once I'd finished and say ‘ooh, isn't it pretty?’. I remember the sudden chill as I realised that having a house to myself and lots of spare time actually didn't sound nearly as fun as it should have been.
I'd completely forgotten this rather depressing childhood vision of my future; but as a result of my recent venture into automated polyhedron construction, I actually have recently made two polyhedra using cardboard and glue, and this suddenly jogged my memory. I thought back then that I'd spend my adulthood wandering aimlessly around a house too big for me, trying not to feel lonely at the lack of a bickering family to share it with, and resorting to increasingly arcane hobby activities in a desperate effort to stave off boredom.
Good job it turned out to be almost completely wrong, really. Instead of that, I have so much stuff I either want or have to do that it's a constant struggle to find any peace and quiet; I know I prefer living alone to having a bunch of housemates and wouldn't have it any other way any more; and I may not have a family, but when I create something useful or pretty I'm decidedly not short of people to wave it at and impress.
Suddenly I want to go back in time and show my ten-year-old self a vision of this lot, to reassure him that it wouldn't end up being nearly that bad. This is unusual, since normally when I think of my ten-year-old self what I mostly want to do is go back and thump him.
This is a thought I have a lot. When I was a child, my thoughts of what my future might be like were almost unremittingly hopeless - like you I imagined that the future would be much like the present, only without any family to help. I looked forward to escaping school, but doubted that I would ever have the self-confidence to go to university or get a job. I assumed I would never have any friends or form any social relationships. In my lighter moments, I aspired to be a hermit surviving on nuts and berries in the Chiltern Hills :-)
So I want to be able to speak to my younger self and say it won't be nearly that bad! (And perhaps, explain that a hunter-gatherer lifestyle would not really be viable in 21st century Oxfordshire :-)
I think if I went back and told my 10-year-old self that being a grown-up would involve spending at least 7 hours a day sitting in front of computers moving meaningless bits of data around so that other grown-ups in suits could make money ... well, I think the best I could hope for would be that she wouldn't understand.