Obsessed? You say that like it’s a bad thing.
Allow me to formally apologize to those I may have neglected over the past couple of weeks. Though in my defense, the children haven’t once gone to school naked and although I ate M&Ms for dinner last night I am a grown-up and that was my choice. The girls, for the record, ate pasta.
It’s actually been nice to take a time out from being fixated on the intricate eating habits of sub-four-foot humans. Despite the grumbles around me, I think that my new obsession has livened things up a bit around here.
I’m not saying that I’ve grown tired of beating down the green path. I’m just saying that if one’s path becomes studded with low swinging branches dangling dreamy opportunities, well, I for one am up for a nice poke in the eye of something new.
And it just so happens that the good people down at Tourism Queensland have been hard at work creating the ideal job for me. So when I got word that a caretaker/writer is needed to live on the Great Barrier Reef for six months and swim, surf and share her fabulous experiences and adventures, well, that’s the kind of call I like to heed. And I’m talking stop dead in my tracks and heed.
Yes, I became a tad obsessed, but it’s not like that’s a bad thing. People with passion are interesting, exciting, you know, passionate.
And sure, I spent every waking hour of the past few weeks working on my application, but it’s not like my kids ever boarded the school bus naked. At least, I’m pretty sure they didn’t. I probably would have gotten a call or something if they had and I didn’t hear the phone ring. Of course, the calypso band in my head has been pumping to the rhythm of my island dreams, so I can be forgiven if I missed something as banal as the ringing of a phone.
Anyways, I’m back now. I finished the application, and it’s down to me; me, and about 30,000 other applicants from across the globe all vying for the position that was molded entirely with me in mind.
Take a look, here it is: Daphne’s Application.
My children, for the record, have been extremely supportive. They are all but packed with snorkel and swimsuit in hand. I’d argue that even if they did go to school sans clothes (which they did not) it’s a small price to pay for the incredible life lesson they’ve gained. The lesson of what it means really, truly to want something. And of working your hardest to achieve that dream.
I believe that’s a lesson that will serve them well, wherever life may take them.
Like, for argument’s sake, Australia.