Daydreaming in the morning

I confess, I am a sloth.

If my life were up to me, I will not work. Anyway, I do not care for a career. Instead, I will fill my days with hours and hours of pleasure.

My idea of pleasure is this: I will read all the books I want, paint all I want, watch movie after movie after movie, learn to cook French food and feed them to anyone who'd take them, write about things that matter to me, maybe even study sculpture, backpack across Europe and, eventually, retire in a quaint apartment in Paris with the love of my life and spend the rest of our days lovingly raising a family.


***

I never wanted a big house, never had a thing for mansions with their countless rooms and sprawling gardens. I have always wanted a small home, snug and cozy. I do wish for a library, though. The room could be miniscule, but I am very particular about the bookshelves. Often, I dream about wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, complete with a sliding ladder. Oh how lovely my books would look on them! Sometimes, I find myself buying books not because I have any intention of reading them but because I think they would look simply divine in our little library.

***

In a well-lit corner of the library would be my workstation, alongside my Ice's little nook. There he would read or type away, and I would paint and do carpentry for hours on end. I have always wanted to make a Louis XIV chair. I wonder if I will ever get to make one.

I miss the smell of paint. I miss how it makes me feel oh-so-important, like I'm creating something that will someday matter.

***

Always, when I study my life so far, I find myself complaining, "This is not the way to live." And so, I try to make amends. I get out of my current job and search for a new, "fulfilling" one. I discard old habits, and form new, "better" ones. I have destroyed and rebuilt myself quite a number of times already, but, every single time, ended up feeling terribly unsatisfied. "This is not the way to live."

Sometimes I fear getting my dream life. I fear that it would disappoint me. And when it does, I fear not knowing what I am to do next.