my daydreams are partying in back of my head like kathie lee and hoda…like i left the dream TV on after watching some important stuff with coffee. now as i start work and a fresh day, all i can hear is them jabbering away back there, laughing and drinking away the a.m. hours. they act like i’ve nothing more pressing to do than think about travel destinations, sample world wines and talk in perfectly reasonable tones about doing the mediterranean on a budget. (whose budget?)
so this scowly american working girl sits here on a couch, heming and hawing at her calendar, distracted, sitting far from the imaginary studio audience now oohing and awing at all things leisure. she glances up from lists and emails, staring longingly at the daydream screen and the villas showcased in her favorite romantic writing towns. she drifts momentarily into the smokey, swirly vision of herself, pen (or laptop) in hand, staring out of an ages old window onto a lush, rocky, watery greek landscape. she’s got a pair of traveling pants from a soul sister somewhere in her suitcase, a tow-headed angel giggling in latin with cute little black-haired children in the tiny yard behind the apartment she’s rented, her inamorato in the kitchenette heating water for rich, foreign coffee beans….
…and back here in the states (real and mental), she’s got a Blackberry reminding her she has a full time job to do today, insurance companies to call, brakes to budget for and a two-year old whiner where a winery would be in the daydream version of mommyhood. that scowly american working girl is me, with a pain in my neck, a pain in the attitude, and a leak in the “fuel for stuff i don’t wanna do” tank. actually, it sounds like i’ve got a 39 year-old whiner whose tone could easily be corrected by the proper placement of a winery in her real life. (…and back to fantasy land i go….)
sigh. so i’m trying to shake the I Must Have Nothing To Do Today Show images out of my head and replace them with visions of real responsibilities met, boxes checked, plans made, ambitions forwarded. i’m trying to pull my head away from a frantic search for shortcuts. i’m trying to do it with less whine, and without resorting to morning wine. yeah.
it’s all about hard work, trish, even for action figures. that’s right. that’s what gets the early worms, the spoils and the right to use righteous quotes about working hard. i suppose that an end vision of leisure and sloth is not exactly the motivation one needs to slog through the lean years. i suppose that vision won’t win me any admiration awards. no one exalts a life of sloth in memorable, oft-quoted eulogies. i suppose i could call my loftier purpose a goal, and my villa in greece a daydream…and i can imagine that if i do enough good and difficult things, i will catch glimpses of that mediterranean view from time to time in my life. i really do admire people who find their passion and work at it until they die…who work to affect something, learn something, teach something, give something…i sometimes daydream that i will do all of those things.
but not today. today i need a mute button and some gratitude for the chance to work at all…(grumble, grumble)….mimosa anyone?