Okay, my dreams were not the same as Fantine's or that delusional shipwrecked Indian kid. My dreams were much more straightforward. Write a famous novel, marry Colin Firth, and move into a well-upgraded English castle. That was a pretty doable dream, right?
Instead I got married to a very nice man and had a bunch of adorable brats. And that has turned out to be an okay dream too. I really love my life.
|"You become a woman|
when people come out
of your vagina and
step on your dreams."
-Louis C. K.
Here's what I think. Maybe, I went through a decade or two without spending a lot of 'me' time. Maybe my kids stepped on my dreams a bit. I am often embarrassed that I never finished my college degree. Perhaps if I had delayed marriage and childbirth I would be a famous anthropologist slash museum curator slash novelist. But who are we kidding. That sounds like way too much camping involved.
Now that my children have grown older and are mostly self-sufficient, I need to figure out a new plan. I need a new dream, people. What would you recommend?