And, everytime, a hazy motion picture would start playing in my head.
A lithesome girl, with somewhat of a resemblance to me, rises in time to shut off the alarm. A quick brush and she heads off for a run at the picturesque jangal-mangal park. At the park, she is PT Usha on dope. In the next hour, she completes her twenty rounds and is forced to stop when other runners plead with her to leave because of the complex she is giving them.
Then, as always, she arrives before time for class. Naturally adept at learning alien languages that were never meant to be learned, French n'cest pas difficile pour elle. "If it was not for your last name, the size of your hips, your love for gongura, and your country of origin, you would have certainly been mistaken for the French," the professeur tells the beaming girl.
But it's only still the beginning. By the end of the day, she has, aced through her calligraphy lessons and her cooking classes, completed her visit to the lending library, spent time at the NGO, won a chess tourney with her non-virtual boyfriend, sifted through her freelance assignments. All, in time for bed.
She completes her nightly routine and slips into bed with a contended smile. She is already ready for the next day.
Now folks, that is what should have happened. This is what happened.
Everyday: Woke. Thought about running. Ate. Went out. Watched movie. Ate. Thought about French class. Read book. Slept. Cooked. Ate. Double Grilled Cheese Sandwiches. Went out. Thought about calling lending library. Played chess with virtual boyfriend. Went out. Bought calligraphy set. Met Jughead or Amen. Read 51 sex tips men want women to know. X BOXed. Went out. Came back smelling like smoke and booze. Read comics. Thought about the video. Slept.
Not exactly as I imagined it would be, but pretty much how I'd want it to be.