Mine, in fact, should have ended weeks ago, but I didn’t have the heart to call it quits. The sun still shines; the shorts are still comfy; the world is still green and warm. Why go back inside, to a routine of schedules and effort and frustration? Well, because it will only get harder the longer I wait. So here I am. At my computer. Ready to work.
Physically, anyway. Mentally, I’m nowhere to be found. My mistake was letting my mind wander in the first place; I’m afraid it isn’t coming back. Seriously. You see, my brain really, really enjoyed the freedom of vacationing. I spent one entire afternoon sitting on the balcony idly dreaming of hotwiring the cherry picker parked on the street below me. Then, Bob’s your uncle, someone loaded it on a flatbed and hauled it away. Dammit! I was so close.
Although some would certainly consider that a wasted afternoon, I don’t. Visualizing myself joyriding through the city in a cherry picker was a grand adventure. I imagined cruising past office buildings, startling secretaries and insurance salesmen, careening around corners, zooming up and down like a yo-yo. Frankly, I’m way too accident-prone to pull off a stunt like that in reality. It would surely and quickly end in disaster — or, more likely, the ER.
So, see why I fear for the return of my cognitive skills? Reality is a dreary substitute for imagination. Oh, I’ll find it eventually and, when I do, I’ll hug that mother tight and handcuff it to my ear like an earring. Life without daydreams isn’t worth living.
copyright © 2018 the whirly girl