My Desired Perfect Life on Weekdays (Part 1 of 2)

Because I’m half Aquarius and half Pisces, my 80^th (joke) birthday is around the corner. Seeing how I haven’t really done much for the past 79 years of my life, I’d like to talk about what my desired “perfect” life would have been had I been more diligent.

Morning:

The strong sunlight hits my eyes and I jump out of my bed, freaking out that I might’ve missed some important appointments. Then I realize that I am filthy rich and so is my husband because I’ve worked enough at my previous 6am to 10pm job.

I still start freaking out because I don’t know if I have enough time to make homemade breakfast for my kids: son #1 and daughter #1. Then I realize that these buttheads get homemade breakfast at their private elementary school. But then I look at the clock and see that it’s already 10:30am and way past the time that school would start for them. Coincidentally, I realize (again) that their daytime nanny already picked them up and dropped them off at school.

Late Morning:

I get a text message from a couple of my girlfriends which is the usual: telling me to meet them at the regular restaurant to have dim sum (Hong Kong styled brunch).

I get ready and on my way out I grab my big brown shaded sunglasses because I’m fearful that there would be dozens of people trying to take my picture or a video of me since I’m so famous. Then I realize that I should stop being so full of myself because I’m a middle-aged lady whose fame is in dead flames. Nevertheless, I still put them on, fearful of getting more wrinkles around my eye area.

Noon:

I arrive at fancy-gorgeous-expensive-dim-sum-restaurant in my car which is a combination of a Mercedes and a Ferrari (if that is even possible, but hey this is my imaginary life!).

My girl friends and I gossip and talk about politics, men, kids, current events and how our lives are so hard because we have such little responsibilities.

We fight over who picks up the check and of course I pretend I want to pay but lose at grabbing the bill. Little do my girl friends know that every time they pick up the tab, I donate my portion of the bill to kids starving in third world countries.

While we’re waiting for the valet drivers to give us our cars, I get a phone call on my 3D, rose petal-lavender scented smartphone- it’s the principal from my kids’ school. He called to tell me that son #1 won the spelling bee in his grade and daughter #1 won the school’s annual talent competition. I tell him that they get their intelligence and talent from their dad but in my head I tell myself that their mama gave them all the good genes.