cobwebs and other things in my brain

So, I'm working today. Really. Pages are turning, emails are flying snappily about, manuscripts and ads and cover copy are all marching their way across my desk...
But that's not what I'm really doing.

What I'm really about is good old-fashioned daydreaming. I'm super good at it. It's a natural talent I've possessed since infancy. Just ask my mother. The difference is that the adult me can multitask. Hence the working and the dreaming. The child me just stared off into space and answered parental requests with "yeah" and "ok, I will" without remembering she had done so.

So what am I thinking about? Lots of things, really. Snippets of stories, song lyrics, things to do in my new house...

And what my ideal life would look like. Lifes, perhaps--since I always seem to come up with more than one potential scenario. Scary how often these comes to mind, since they generally bear little resemblance to my current, actual life. Granted, this has to be taken with a HUGE grain of salt. Dreams have a lovely way of scooting around anything messy, complicated, or potentially disastrous.

Start a home textiles business and B&B on Mackinac Island? Sure! You'll love dealing with customers--and you'll turn a healthy profit, naturally. It'll be nothing but super fun. Write novels in the slow winter season? Go for it! They'll sell great, and you'll always be inspired and content...living with your eight cats...not talking to real people more than once or twice a week...

Maybe I'm a little jaded. Perhaps sardonic, even. (no kidding, you say) I prefer to think that I temper my dreams with logic. Realism. Not pessimism. I don't think I've ever been accused of being negative. Nope. I hate whining. I hate hearing people (including me) sabotage themselves through excuses and doubts. And I see too many possibilities for pessimism to ever take root. Too many dreams, too many might-bes...

Crap. I've stopped working. I have to go.