Sweet Fantasy, Baby

I have a place in my little brain that is just for me. It’s filled with so much ridiculousness happiness.

At night, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and dream…

I dream that I’m off in Europe somewhere, it’s cold and cloudy, and I’m wearing an extra large matching sweat suit cashmere loungewear, sipping Earl Grey tea next to a fire, cuddling up next to the love of my life, as he whispers this into my ear…

Bliss.

Then I make my way to the workout room, where my personal trainer leads me in a rigorous yoga practice, and I remain beautiful and desirable at all times. And it’s not hard at all!

I proceed to the master suite where I read an educational, slightly pretentious novel atop my Tempur-Pedic-Cloud-Supreme-Gold-Woven- Diamond-Dusted mattress, whilst high-fiving a million angels.

Winning.

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Then, with the cursed sun ball of morning, I wake up. And reality sets in.

I start the day with a bowl of pure energy. Off-brand Frosted Mini-Wheats…

Then I feed the @$%#@ cat…

I write a really bad song…

Butt-kiss all the music venues I can possibly find…

Try and come up with my own Zumba moves at the apartment for my cheaper-than-a-gym workout…

Babysit some kids…

And end the day with writing an epic blog post that is sure to inspire millions, if not billions of people.

Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all night folks, try the veal.