Yours probably is too. You do theses things, however normal they seem to you, and while you do them, you narrate the scene like you are watching it from a completely different life.

You don’t have to not love the life you have to dream of new ones. There are no rules here.

As I drive through dense fog of Northwest winter to the “farm school” where my sweet, always perfect 4 year old goes for 4 hours most days (do teachers and kids have to be there too? HAH!), I find myself slamming on my breaks for the same old yellow light because I was day dreaming about the small winding streets of Italy or many places I have yet to visit where I can’t understand a damn fucking thing and I don’t have to worry about the weight of life in chores when I go home. When I go to bed at night and my feet ache from wandering aimlessly and thinking “I should hand wash this shirt so it looks better by tomorrow” instead of hurting from the 3000 wood stairs I have st home where I run up and down doing who the fuck knows all day. First world problems. It’s a hashtag I know.

Back to Sundance. I narrate. And sometimes I am totally hilarious. But I am worried I’m the kind of hilarious where you try and break the silence at the grocery store by saying something to connect and the checker looks at you(Beep. Silence. Beep. Silence) and you look at them like “ok then” and maybe say something in a British accent as you walk out of the store with your random collection of items.

The person watching this whole exchange is blissfully spacing out in the comfort of wherever they are doing life however they do it.

*not sure what I was trying to write here, but I was waiting for my tea water to boil and thought I would put it down into words that don’t much make sense. And I thought all my fans would possibly get a kick out of it. You know who you are. Too tired to drink the tea I made.

Until next Sundance moment..: