A long time ago now, I met an adorable girl who liked nothing more than cosying up in bed and watching Glee with a cup of sleepy time tea. (I hope she doesn't mind me telling you this.) Although the show and the brand of tea might change, she still does. Except now she does those things in Burma.
Go even further back in my life and I got very lucky with the alphabet. I met an equally adorable girl (maybe more adorable - we were 11 back then!) when we were assigned beds next to each other on our first day at boarding school. While my bed is still in England, hers is now in Germany and is about to move to Singapore.
Fast forward to the present day and these lovely girls have become debonaire 20-somethings who swish around the globe, respectively advancing the progress of world peace, and bilingually (definitely a word) spreading the message of internet-conquering global enterprises.
These are only two examples of some of the spectacular escapades embarked on by people I've known throughout my life, but don't play your tiny violin for me yet; I've had my share of world-bestriding fun. I lived in New York for two exhausting and exhilarating years, I worked and lived in Cambodia for a crazy handful of months. I've travelled. In the end though I had to accept my limitations and I'm opting to live a quiet life... for now. Which means that, in comparison, my horizons can sometimes seem... a little small. So, do I - in the age of Instagram and monetised fear of missing out - get jealous?
I used to.
Then I started writing.
Writing affords the widest horizons there are. I can go to space, or an alternate reality of my own invention, the jungle, any country of my choosing... all while parked in my comfy chair, wearing fuzzy socks and a shockingly patterned coatigan.
As an added bonus I also get to be proud of my incredible friends and hear about their shenanigans. We were once little girls with no idea where we were headed. They're now strong, kind, generous, beautiful women, who occasionally toat me along on their adventures like an old carpet bag. Or bring me back exotic teas.
I build castles in the sky.
Your limitations are only as limiting as you let them be, your horizons only as small as you imagine them.
I'm off to a desert in another universe.
Bye for now