After a long day of work, I came home today and balanced the mojo budget. The thought of devoting so much time to that blasted budget kills me. On top of the budget, I just spent my last weekend (ah, on a roadtrip involving a small town, road bikes, and the magical combination of the hot sun and cool spring air) day-dreaming.
Suddenly, I realize that my dreaming has become compartmentalized. Reserved for the weekends. I mourn that.
But, oh, the dreams! The jam and I outlined the book that is going to make me famous. I made the beginnings of a playlist that I’ll use to apply to be a dj at the local volunteer radio station that will lead me to become a famous music critic. I read a book on food and imagined the meals I’d make when I joined a local CSA.
A mere 4 days later and although I have registered (and paid, gulp) for the CSA, I can’t say I have gotten anywhere closer to making my big dreams a reality. Just balancing a budget that reminds me of my chains.
Is the grass always greener? Do I take hold of these dreams and be proud that they are mine? Do I wallow in the fact that I don’t have a bestseller, a business of my own, or a job where I work in the sun? When do our dreams diverge from our reality? When do we pursue a convergence and when do we make lemonade?
brooklynatelier 
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