When I was a little girl I needed to look forward to something exciting to pull me out of bed.
It was always, of course, the perspective of a pleasant moment.
In no specific order of preference it has been:
Reading Baudelaire in French class
Catching a glimpse of the boy I had a crush on
Writing a poem
Having lunch – yes even with cafeteria food – with my friends
Biking alone after school
Writing in my journal
Listening to my History teacher telling us about the many, many kings of France- fascinating characters
Waving to the boy I had a crush on
Writing a story for my sister – she hated reading
Climbing a tree with my friends after school
Saying bonjour to the boy I had a crush on
Writing a story for my town newspaper – even if they didn’t always picked my story
Is it weird if now when I wake up I look forward to spending time with people I invented from nothing?
Isn’t it even weirder if today I woke up, knowing it was Saturday and I had no school driving to do, no laundry to do – I did it on the day the people I invented from nothing acted as if they wanted nothing from me – and what I was really, really looking forward to was to delete a whole chapter from a manuscript I thought, until I woke up, pretty much revised?
P.S. I still look forward to all of the above, minus school and the boy I had a crush on since I found a man I love.