Dreams… diluted, deferred, demented
When I was in High School, I wanted to be famous. I would be beautiful and have a penthouse in Manhattan, a flat in London, a pied de terre in Paris and a job that let me pay for them all and jet set around the world. I wanted to have three simply gorgeous boyfriends — one in each city — and very short hair.
When I was in college, I wanted to get a good job, one that paid well and let me use my creative side. I was going to have a boyfriend who was tall and handsome and a doctor who drove vintage cars. I wanted a beautiful flat.
After college, I wanted a job and an apartment that didn’t have rats.
Once I got a job, I wanted a job that didn’t stink of cigars and an apartment that didn’t have rats or cockroaches.
In my 20s, I wanted a kind and smart husband who was good in bed.
Once I was married, I wanted a dishwasher and a parking space to call my own.
Now that I’m a mom, I just want to go to the bathroom without getting interrupted.