A Blog About Nothing (& Chasing Your Dreams)

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

I poured myself a tiny glass of whiskey, fully intending to not drink it. I like to have a beverage next to me when I write, whether it’s a strong cup of coffee or a zesty lemon water or an enthusiastic glass of bottom-shelf whiskey.

I went to the grocery store earlier, and I could tell that the girl bagging my groceries was new. She kept asking the checkout clerk, who also happened to be the store manager, “What bag should I put this in?” as she held up a single red pepper, an air freshener, cat treats, frozen bread. If I were a bit less kind and a bit more brave, I would have told her to move aside and let me determine where exactly to put my red pepper. She had the look of a kid whose parents made her get a job, but who didn’t really need a job. She could get fired or quit that second and her life wouldn’t change at all. She had no motivation to be there, is what I’m saying. And as I eyed her bright red smock, I can’t say I altogether blame her.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be rich enough to not have to work. I wonder what I would do with myself, and then I think, “why, I’d do whatever I wanted.” I’d travel a lot, and write a lot, and run a lot, and probably lose track of days. Who cares if it’s Wednesday or June or 2022? Very rich people (probably)…