I want to love my job.
I want a job I love.
I want to travel. Back-to-back. Melbourne to Hong Kong. Hong Kong to London. London to Dublin. With nary a care.
I want to meet Colin Firth and tell him how dashing he is.
I want the Cady from Oliver Peoples.
I want to shoot people in between the eyes and whoop for joy.
I want coffee. Stat. Or brain stimulants. The ones that go straight to the head. A bullet might do the trick.
I want to attend a music festival with all the band fare.
This ain’t going anywhere.