I've been working for a decent number of years now. And there's that feeling every now and again that I could have done so much more.
I don't mean work-wise, no. I never intended out ever to do more at the 9 to 5. Work's for the working class. I'm a bit of the dreaming class. We rarely attach much to what happens at the desk.
I mean otherwise.
For you see, I've always believed that ambition should be a negative word.
Hobbyist, explorer, adventurer and their derivatives on the other hand, should be words worth more than their weight in gold.
For you see, I've also always believed that I was born in the wrong century. A few centuries earlier and I'd be discovering new lands, fighting off people discovering my land, sailing on ships amid tumultuous seas, courting women I shouldn't be courting, a Romeo to your Juliet and if a girl, a Viola to your Duke. And yes probably dying very young. Can't win em all can you.
As you've well imagined, this is me having resorted to dreaming at work, for I've had enough of this fucking spreadsheet.