As the title suggests, I have been busy planning my future.
I figured it was something that I needed to do in order to move forward with my life.
Tonight, Sid gave me the perfect opportunity by querying what we should do this weekend.
Me: We could fill an esky with ice, bait, drinks, sandwiches and take the fishing rod for a walk to the river?
If the weather’s nice.
Take the backpack, picnic blanket, a pillow to share. mp3, your speakerdude.
Don’t even have to go fishing, just thought it might give us something to do.
We could draw, or photos, or write.
One day we’ll take a long weekend, go camping. Pretend to be huck finn and build a raft.
- He is aware that I will forget about this idea later tonight;
- He is also aware that even if I did remember, the weekend would arrive and I would be all “aww mannnnn”, and just complain about blisters all day; and;
- He’s so used to this that he no longer pays it any real attention beyond complementing me on my imagination and changing the subject to distract me with something new.
It worked, because I then asked him if he meant here, in this little river-town we live in, because it’s a total possibility, and if not, I think I’ve found a new business venture…
Obviously, before, when I said “planning my future”, I didn’t mean like, a realistic or useful one.
I’m nowhere near ready for that shit.