Daydreams Aren’t Just For Kids

I imagine myself as a farm wife, milking cows, up at 4am, baking bread and churning butter. Of course I would be a farm wife from several hundred years ago, a real pioneer, so I’d be wearing an awesome dress while I did all the chores, although no one would think it was awesome then. (Somehow it takes many decades to make such a thing appealing.) I’d appreciate the warmth of the barn and the animals on early winter mornings, and naturally I’d be quilting and canning vegetables from my garden and teaching my little daughters to do embroidery samplers. Or maybe I’d be more of a European farm wife. Heck, why be a simple serf? I’d me more of a Maid Marion. I would totally know how to wield a sword and wear an even more awesome dress at the same time. Defending my home, which would look a bit like a modest castle, just like in the movies. And then be swept away into the forest to be wooed by a hot sword-wielding guy in equally awesome clothing. And my hair would be really long. That’s in every daydream except the futuristic ones.

Some days, the really hot late summer afternoons when the air is almost burning, I’m Cleopatra. Or Nefertiti, or Hatshepsut. Doesn’t matter, as long as I’m in Egypt, lounging around the palace and being fanned by servants with big palm leaves while I eat dried fruits and plan my next intrigue. I have to stay one step ahead of my enemies, who are naturally planning my assassination – again. I’m too clever for them, and they will be exposed and sentenced to death, but I still have to be careful. Bring me another glass of wine! And hey you, come apply another coat of this fabulous eyeliner! I think it’s running in this awful heat.

What I really need is some way to cool off – like an ocean voyage. Shall I take the Titanic? Or sail solo around the world in something a bit smaller? My exploration daydreams start to take on Amazon undertones, and then I’m in South America slowly cruising the waterway, alert for danger, my guide taking me deep into the virgin forest to brave cannibals and crocodiles while I search for the legendary treasure. Why yes, I do happen to be wearing one of those cool khaki outfits and a safari hat! And I have a gun. And a knife. And a machete. And a treasure map.

I’m on a plane that’s in trouble, about to crash. The oxygen masks have popped out, but we all know that’s not going to do much. I can look out the window and see the trees coming closer, and the engines are silent. I only hope we don’t explode on impact – will I be able to escape and live to tell the story? I also find myself on sinking ships, tackling a mall shooter, doing undercover stings with dangerous criminals, and searching for the tracking chip the evil government has implanted somewhere on my person because they know I have dangerous information that could bring down the whole country.

So you people just watch out. Because when you see my gold nail polish, please know it’s because I’m a Queen of Egypt. Or when I tell you I’m raising chickens, even though I’m not wearing a bonnet, it’s because I’m secretly a Pioneer farm wife. And when I express delight at something scary or gross, don’t judge me – because we who live very dangerously think stuff like that is cool. We can’t help it.