My Summer of Living.

I am a daydreamer. I think I got that from my dad. I can spend hours lying down and imagining a life where I'm a shop owner, an archaeologist, a critically acclaimed writer. I imagine myself in Turkey, in Oman, in Portland, Sydney, Paris, Morocco. I imagine myself cliff-diving, skuba-diving. I imagine myself as an adventurous woman.

Someone once told me that I think too much. He said "people who think don't DO anything".

He's kind of right. I spend more time thinking of an amazing life than living one.

That ends now people.

My dad was so busy working that he didn't leave Nigeria the last 20+ years of his life. I respect his hustle but it makes me sad that my father, who had been to countries in five out of seven continents when he was younger, got so caught up in work. He'll never get to take my mom to the small town outside of Vienna that he lived in when he was a young man. We're never going to take that trip to Dubai I talked about obsessively when he was sick, thinking sheer will would keep him alive.

I'm so done with daydreaming. I'm not rich but I have a job that pays well enough and allows me to work anywhere with wifi. I'm not married, I don't have kids, I don't have any responsibilities that require me to stay anywhere.

I'm out.

I declare the next few months, the "summer of living". I am going to do as much as I can while I'm visiting family and friends in the states. I'm going to see some new things, meet some new people. And when I get back, I intend to continue doing so.

 It is so easy to get caught up in the details required to run our lives. Those lives of ours are short. Death is inevitable. There's nothing any of us can do about it. But If we're going to die tomorrow, shouldn't our bucket lists be shorter?