Of Jobs and Daydreams

I made a list of the jobs that I wouldn’t mind doing or jobs that I would actually like and jobs that I know I would hate or not enjoy doing. I do not know what my choices imply and I couldn’t read into them yet. I can’t see a pattern or anything drastically different between all of them. Right now I just know how I feel about each one.

Then I started daydreaming.

I’m working at a seaside bar in Mexico, serving drinks and chatting up tourists. I’m wearing flip-flops and the sand just slips between my toes everytime — but it doesn’t bother me. I have a nice tank top and a pair of beige shorts on, keeping me cool despite the weather. There’s a fresh-picked flower just above my ear and a seashell necklace hanging from my neck. I have the most incredible tan and a nice healthy body, made so by running by the shore every morning. I am happy and content with what I do and what I’ve become. After work I go home to my husband and we then make love before succumbing to sleep. The sound of breaking water and crashing waves fill my dreams and then I’m going to wake up the next morning to a brand new and wonderful day. I’m so happy that I wonder if it’s all a dream or if I had died and gone to heaven.

Another daydream.

I’m standing by the shore and the sun is setting. As it slowly lowers itself to kiss the horizon, the sky is painted with warm colors — red, yellow, orange — all coming together to make this spectacular afternoon show. The wind is blowing gently, caressing my cheeks, my neck, and my arms. There’s a feeling of calm and then I think that it couldn’t get any better than this. That finally, life is good.