Time for my lazy Sunday post-coffee hype.
I get excited about random things and weave dreamy unrealistic plans... It's so delightful! The best kind of time spent alone. No one to challenge my new plan of climbing Mount Kilimanjaro in November. No one to point out I lack in physical fitness, funds and time off to do it. Because OBVIOUSLY now that I've decided to go to ZANZIBAR on my next holiday, it would simply be a CRIME not no climb those 5,895 metres. Or maybe it's time to revisit that idea of cycling through Tajikistan..? Or start a zine. Or a book club!
Or maybe even have a pleasant conversation with my mother.
I wish this feeling of something extraordinary being attainable and... desirable lasted a while longer. As my body metabolises away the stimulating effects of the big Sunday breakfast the reality slowly sinks me back into the realm of obstacles, deadlines, account balances and the fact that for weeks I've been walking my bicycle up hills.
Still, I feel I have dreamt, and it tasted good.
Not all is lost because no amount of growing up will take those Sunday mornings away...