My fantasy day versus my real day
My fantasy day runs like this:
- Wake up before Ann and Zane
- Meditate/envision my day
- Ease into it, the day
- I’m oh so writerly, spewing hot jets of originality from the fountain of my imagination
- I nibble an economically healthy breakfast
- I answer emails from fans and questioners
- I slip into the pool
- I lunch
- I nap
- I arise and stretch and fling words that came to me in my napping reverie onto the page
- I interview
- Homework and playtime with Zane
- We commingle in the kitchen, creating an environmentally healthy meal
- We clean up, we banter
- We read luxuriously, we three, all flopped together in our big bed
- I meditate as Ann and Zane doze off
- Finito
Now take a (real) day of mine:
- Ran to breakfast with a friend
- Date with my wife if you know what I mean
- Zipped off to work
- In the middle of the workday had to run the van to the mechanic to get some maintenance done
- Then dropped off artwork to an artist
- Straight from there drove to help some very dear friends move
— I’ve got a big cavernous van after all and we love to help - Drove home with diapers for our friends’ baby, who Ann was babysitting
- Take out trash, recycling in the pitch dark
— long driveway in a semi-rural unlit area - Scarfed a meal
- Fun with Zane in the general direction of bedtime, who’s full of hugs and I love you Daddy, I love you Mommy spurts in the midst of his other talk to prolong the day
- Wrote wrote wrote!
- Meditation/appreciation on all the cool conversations and zippiness of the day
The fantasy day is mighty fine. It’s coming. But, man, I’ll take that real day any day
— real life is my fantasy.