I love my family to death, I truly do. But sometimes. . .
I was having dinner with a friend today and we started talking about how our big dreams have become small, more realistic dreams over time. One of those dreams is to one day move my ass from California to New York, find a nice apartment and pursue my career over there.
I don't obsess over this, but every once in a while certain things will make wish I could tap my heels three times and go home to my own New York apartment in the Twilight Zone.
If I had my own place I could:
*Wake up to some hot ass rock song, or salsa, or whatever my little heart desires.
*Have a walk-in closet with huge, and I mean huuuge shelves for my shoes.
*Get the pool table out of the garage and put it in the main living room.
*Eat in the sink on disposable platic plates so I won't have to do dishes. . . although that's bad for the environment. . . nevermind.
*Recycle in peace!!!!!!
*Have candles everywhere.
*Get another huge shelf for my books, so they don't have to be all in boxes.
*Come home from work and undress as I make my way to my room without worrying about modesty or picking up after myself right away.
*Walk around my place naked; again, no modesty involved.
*Sleep in the nude during hot summer nights, no AC, windows open, blinds closed ;)
*Take long bubble baths without having somebody knocking on the door asking me to hurry up.
*Dance like no one is watching.
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