I'm upset with myself right now. Today I went out to Longview lake and took a walk with my sister Amber. While we were out there, we got to talking...and my disgusting fantasy dominated the conversation. For some reason, for the past two days--I've had this idea about winning the lottery. Not a lot, which is weird because you think I'd dream "big" here...but all that keeps popping in my head is $20,000.
Basically: I get the $20 grand, say "fuck you" to my job (if they ever let me actually WORK), pack a bag and go live on a beach somewhere (you know where) until this whole "summer thing" blows over.
How sick is that?
What's worse, though, is that I KNOW this can't happen. SO instead I figured out a way to STILL live my fantasy: I could just work my ass off for a year...then quit and be a beach bum. I could see myself doing that, just working every few years then vanishing. Of course, I know that I can't do that (thank you Leah (just kidding)). But it's still makes me sick that I could even think about doing such a thing. What about school? What about writing? The fact that I could (happily) shrug off everything in my life (other than Leah and maybe Rusty) and live such a meaningless life bothers me.
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5 comments:
Its a fantasy, it would be great for the 1st weeks or even months but I dont think you would be happy living like that in the long run. I could see you however sitting on a beach writing or even leaving near a beach.
The things we find wonderful will lose there charm if they become commonplace.
living not leaving
This is the unspoken American Dream...the one most everyone has from time to time, walking away from their solid middle-class lives.
I've never thought about it before, but you're right Terri--that is the unspoken "American Dream."
Don't keep any shotguns around and you can skip the Hemmingway part.
Besides, my understanding is that he learned he had cancer, which wasn't really treatable in the sixties.
Respects,
Murph
Escaping to Texas, Briefly
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