I’m a daydreamer.
My mind is my playground.
While others live in reality, dealing with real problems and situations that arise, I stick my head in the sand and daydream.
At work, I fantasize about home.
At home, I fantasize about vacation.
On vacation, I fantasize about looking great in a bikini.
One of my recurring daydreams involves me being a writer. You know, someone who actually gets PAID to write. I envision a leisurely workday of steaming coffee on the desk, sitting at a computer, not interacting with people unless I choose to, while beautiful, moving, riveting stories flow from my fingertips and land right smack dab on the bestseller list. I usually have this fantasy during the school year when I have a class full of darlings pulling on my skirt tails, tattling because someone cut them in line, while their forefinger is buried in their nose up to its knuckle.
But I must say, this summer alone, I have learned that I do not think I have it in me to be a writer or anything else that doesn’t require punching a clock and a puposeful task to complete. I am unmotivated. I cannot make myself do anything. Shaving my legs is a chore these days. I realize my blog has been rather quiet and I offer this explanation. My life is boring and I’m lazy. There.
I yearn for interaction. I haven’t left my house in days. I doubt my car will start on Sunday when it’s time for church.
My days oscillates between watching the Casey Anthony trial and working jigsaw puzzles, with lots of lying on the couch and eating in between.
One constructive task I do each day is the evening chores. But two days in a row, I left the door open to where the alfalfa is stacked and the horses wandered in and were having a hayday (no pun intended). After running the horses out, and shutting the door, my husband gently reprimanded me. “Are you firing me?” I asked hopefully. “No,” he replied, “if not for the chores, then you really would do nothing all day.”
Here’s to summer!
But when does school start?
I need a job.
And a bunch of kids pulling on my skirt tails.