It’s always been hard for me to not dream about what could be.
I spend most of my time imagining how to perfect what I already have, not so much reaching perfection, so to speak, but how to turn it into a project that I am always working on.
I am always dreaming about something, and with that little piece of my personality comes the part of me that clings to those dreams so steadfastly that if they don’t work out I fall into this pit of total devastation, like I don’t want to leave my room, I want to get Dairy Queen, cry, and not shower for three days. Shut up, you’ve done it.
You can only imagine how difficult this is for somebody who has already established all of the dreams they thought they had at 17…to then turn 24 and realize that the dreams she had at 17 were so wildly different that you are left unsatisfied because, alas, the 17 year old girl has been long gone…
One day I am fantasizing about being a photographer full time and getting to spend more down time with my kids and the other I’m imagining spending the rest of my life traveling with or without kids in tow.
I cannot make up my mind on most anything. I have decided that the wanderlust is not going anywhere.
I can’t get stuck in the same routines or else it only fuels the wanderlust that much more.
…and that my husband has the strength and willpower of ten men for being able to hold me down.