Empty

I have nothing to say. Literally nothing. I’m just working. Well, I’m on lunch now, but I mean that I haven’t really done anything that involves thought other than work for the last couple of days. There is nothing else even remotely worth mentioning going on in my head.

I want to hit the lottery. I want to go on vacation. I want to own a house in San Diego, a condo in Boston, and an apartment in Manhattan, along with the house we already have. I want Elon Musk’s Hyperloop thing to become a reality so that I can leave work at the end of the business day and pop over to San Diego for an evening on the Pacific with my wife and her kids, and then have us all home in enough time to get a good night’s sleep for work and school the next day.

I want to get paid to write this silly blog, I want to get paid to be a photographer, and I want to get paid to write songs and play guitar, but at the same time I don’t want to be a professional at any of those things. I want the financial rewards without the pressures of the professions. In other words, I don’t want any of those things to be my job and cause me stress. I just want to do them because I enjoy doing them, but at the same time make enough dough off of them so that I can afford four homes. Things that are fun can cease to be fun when you have to do them instead of just want to do them. You know what I mean?

I want to be an astronomer. I want to be an astronaut. I want to be an archaeologist, but only if I can be like Indiana Jones. I want to be an oil baron, but not a Texas oil baron. I want to be able to leisurely take trains all over the country, although I would probably just stick to within a couple of hundred miles of each coast.  I want to own a passenger jet, but I don’t necessarily want to be a pilot.  I want to be a genius physicist and discover something astonishing that turns the entire way we view the universe on its ear.  I want to be George Brett and hit .390.  I want to be as awesome as Gmail.  Yesterday my wife asked me if I could remember something that we haven’t even thought about since 2008.  I went to my Gmail account and had the answer in less than 10 seconds.  That is fricken awesome.  I want to be that awesome.

I want a lot of things, but what I want most of all is for my wife and my step kids to continue wanting me in their life.  That is better than hitting .390, discovering the Higgs Boson, and being able to ride in a pneumatic tube all the way to California in about an hour.