I’ve become obsessed with watching videos of Elon Musk. It’s odd, because just last week my ‘go to’ for visual entertainment was Snoop Dog. I know, I know...what in tarnation do I have in common with either of these individuals? Well....nothing; which is precisely why I enjoy watching them. If I wanted to watch anyone whose life mirrored mine, I’d be watching videos of Linzess mishaps, and people’s dollar store trips.
Anyway, I still had the multi billionaire on the brain, when I fell asleep last night. Somewhere between bionic chickens and Tammy Kaye’s dumplings, I dreamed that I won the lottery. I highly doubt that I’ll ever invent anything, or be instrumental in furthering our technology. Rapping like Snoop seems a bit far fetched too. So, even in my dreams, my monetary riches would have to be born from sheer luck.
Parts of this dream are blotchy, but I vividly recall these things. I bought a Vera Bradley space suit (yes, my space suit was flowery, colorful and cute) rode on a pink train named ‘The Neon Elon’ to Mars, thought I was gonna freeze to death, but was murdered by a robotic rooster, instead. This, folks, is why I don’t have money.
My mind doesn’t function or focus accordingly. I can recite every line of every Golden Girls episode ever aired. I can cook a full course meal in less than an hour (if left alone, and allowed to do it my way), and I can catch the shady meaning of an ambiguously dirty joke, before anybody else in the room. Admittedly, these are pretty cool traits...but they don’t pay up. Even in my dreams, I can’t muster up a sensible way, to be financially well off and actually survive it.
And I guess it’s okay. Some of us were put here to be important and do great things. Some were put here to entertain. Some...to nurture. Others...to teach. And so forth and so on.
It’s fun (and sometimes sad) to wonder what we could be, could’ve been, and won’t ever be (but pretend that we will). But we’re all here, for a reason. And who’s to say that Mr. Musk doesn’t occasionally dream of being like little ole me... if only for a day? A typical day, spent on a carport, kitten in my lap, birds chirping, the weight of the world existing only in my head... not literally, like his. He might die of boredom, but at least, in his dream... he wouldn’t be mutilated by a robotic chicken.
We’re all here for a reason, and nobody’s reason mirrors another’s. We, each, have our very own and unique reflection. The hardest person to love, sometimes...is ourselves. I know it too well. But somewhere...somebody...is dreaming that they could be you...if only for a day.
