In a world where we measure our
happiness based on “likes” and the race to post our vacay photos,
job promotion news, and status updates about our latest financial
indulgence; is it a wonder it's so easy to get down in the dumps? I
don't think more people are depressed these days than in the past, I
just think it's easier for them to be depressed.
Maybe good things happened to me
today. Maybe they didn't. But either way, I don't need to post it on
Facebook and clog the news-feeds of my 36 Facebook friends.
Friends meaning: I would send a hand-written letter to you because I
value the time we've spent together and I wish to keep in touch...and
Facebook's an easy way to do that.
I live in a world where the
white-picket fence ideal is having 500+ friends and a bunch of
likes on that uploaded photo of your day trip to the ocean.
If you're on vacation, and you don't
have a job, is it still vacation?
I figured out my life the other day.
Age 23-30. Build up the writing
portfolio, sending submissions to various publications. Work job in
museum setting and learn about art history. *Ideal:
get a Masters in anthropology somewhere in this time frame.* Age 30:
Get job with NatGeo; be their writer who gets sent to cool places
like Polynesia to research the culture and write about it. Fall in
love with my partner/photographer. We live the nomadic life as a pair
of wandering sea turtles. Not sure why I chose sea turtles, since I
hate being in open bodies of water. It just seemed very pleasant. So,
the sea turtle scheme stays.
Why
didn't I think of this plan before?
The
cat is sitting in the windowsill, basking. Basking, basking. Tummy
rises, falls. Fur is brown, then golden, then white, then golden;
brown. Up and down. Up and down.
A
sound. Ears prick. A mouse! No, the wind. No...a fly. Rise. All four
feet, padding on carpet. This carpet reeks! Sniff. No good. The fly!
Buzz, buzz. Buzz. Must catch. Pad, pad, pad. There he is! Leap!
Snatch. Miss. Pad, pad.
A
sound. Ears prick. The girl! The skinny one. Ah, yes, behind the
ears, get behind the ears! What's this? She sees the fly. My name?
She's saying my name. She's pointing to the fly.
That
is not my job.
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