Awkward things.

Only in Dreams

on February 21, 2013


I was just wondering, is anybody actually happy with themselves? Like properly happy? I have this crazy idea that I will be happy when I’m a couple of stone lighter, or a couple of million richer, or when I become best friends with Neil Gaiman and steal his talent by osmosis. But will I? I have this habit where, right before I fall asleep, I slip into this magical fantasy world. I am beautiful and skinny, like Angelina Jolie, smoochie lips gorgeous, I am Steve Jobs-style successful, I live in a castle, for goodness sake, and it’s baby blue. This is the life that I crave and I should be happy.

It turns out that in my fantasy world, where I’m given everything I’ve ever wanted, all I do is want more. Yeah I’m pretty, but my nose should be more pixie-like, my lips should be poofier, I should have that posh girl hair that looks like you didn’t try. Do they try? I have no idea. I want a treehouse and a holiday home in Saundersfoot, (I’m not fussy, just greedy,) and even then the picture doesn’t look right to me. Yes in this new world I’m perfect, life is perfect, but I didn’t earn it. I haven’t worked for my castle, I didn’t spend hours drowning my laptop with tears to write my bestsellers. It’s all an obvious lie.

So what do I do? Should I keep dreaming up my modelesque fairy land or should I sit down, shut up and be happy with what I have? I have a lot, it’s true. I’ve had a few successes  and I’ve worked hard for them, earning every damn bottle of Bucks Fizz. I have an amazing family of friends. I have a bloody good life. But I don’t think life is about resting. I believe that you should strive for more, and use what you have to get what you want. So I’m going to be grateful for my gifts and keep swimming upstream; and with all that exercise, by the time I reach my castle I’ll definitely be bikini ready!


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