Different Kinds of Happy

Beware of Rambling Daydreams

I’m frightened to give myself permission to daydream. Unlike dreams at night, you daydream with some sense of choice. And they’re harder to forget than night-dreams. The implications stare you in the face the moment you return to reality. But daydreams come in snapshots vivid and bright, and they’re often irresistible. Nibbling on M&Ms and a second cup of coffee in my usual corner of the coffee shop during my break in the middle of a particularly exhausting day at work,  I couldn’t help but scribble out these images in my notepad. If desires and needs are embedded in daydreams, all this showed me was that I need a vacation pretty desperately. 

A fluffy king-sized hotel bed. An expansive window overlooking crashing waves and salty air. I go to bed at 10 pm after a three-hour Swedish massage and glass of wine alongside a leisurely gourmet dinner with a few friends. When I wake up naturally about twelve hours later, my eyes open, alert and ready to face the world. I saunter down to the lobby and meet the same friends for Belgian waffles and copious bacon.

Now where did I place my watch, I wonder as we stroll to the nearest city…  Oh right, I tossed it in the ocean yesterday along with all the burdens I’ve been toting the past year. “Let’s do something spontaneous,” one of my friends smiles and moves her eyebrows up and down. We exchange knowing looks. What hasn’t been spontaneous about this whole series of adventures to the ends of the earth?  “Okay, where to?” I hear myself ask, feeling only a slight sense of trepidation that’s been so foreign lately. “It’s been years since I got lost in Venice,” someone offers. “Or stood at the foot of the Alps,” I say. Who says we have to choose? Life’s too short to limit ourselves to a single destination.

So we stop in a coffee shop and sip lattes while we collect our ideas (only eliminating a few countries in Europe that we’ll visit) and make reservations for one more night at our high-rise hotel and tickets for a red-eye flight to Heathrow tomorrow. Somehow, our bank accounts have been regularly replenished by an unknown source. The first week or so, we questioned parents and other friends who owed us favors, but they all vehemently denied any involvement. As we got used to our lifestyle of grand travels and unlimited leisure–an ungodly amount really–we forgot how miraculous our fate was, still still soaking in these crazy blessings. This beautiful, inexpiable bottomless cask of oil …

This entry was published on February 20, 2014 at 1:35 am and is filed under Travel. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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