I'm supposed to be finishing a segment for work, but here I am, trying to delay the stress, facebooking, reading blogs, enjoying the sweetness of doing nothing before plunging into work stuff again.
It's kinda fun.
And now, I'm thinking, if I'm not here right now in my room, if I'm not obliged to work and finish graduate school to have an edge, where would I rather be? What would I rather do?
I imagine myself in a faraway place, in a beach in another country. Not the loud beach type, but a kind of tranquil, isolated one. With a nearby local village market, where everything was foreign, and food was fresh and exotic. I'd go home to a small hut by the beachfront and cook my own meals. I'd be reading books the whole day, then ride a bicycle to my graduate school a few kilometers away, where I also teach. I'd be taking up a cool course, not lucrative, but something that I've always wanted to take-- community development, perhaps women and development. At the same time, I am writing a journal about the status of women in the country and how they have managed to rise beyond being second-class citizens. People think of me as strange, but nevertheless liked me for my warmth and compassion.
On weekends, I'd be dipping my feet on the sand while reading literature-- a Murakami or Gaiman book perhaps. Or probbably, Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar or one of Isabel Allende's magic realist books.
A dark guy will approach me and hand over a letter. It will be from my Mom, wanting to know if I'm coming home for Christmas.
Oops, time's up! I'm back in my room and I'm in front of my Mac Book. Back to work. Back to my real life, which is not so bad after all.