The woman I had lunch with today is brave, reckless, and someone that I cannot imagine not knowing, someone I crave to speak to, the way our conversations range and wander. She's also done, completely, with the way her life is working. Her and her husband are going to just not go to work anymore.
Take seven months off.
Travel the world.
Sure, it may not happen due to something unforeseen, but their plan is: fuck right the hell off. Get out of town. Touch the horizon.
Me, I'm in my hamster wheel, like my forefathers, working my ass off. My retirement funds will fund my wife quite well once I am dead. We all work until we die. It's what we do.
But she's going to take some time away from that, risk her retirement savings, spend her future self on the escape. And goddamn, what an escape.
I can see it now, some beach in Vietnam, the sun setting, the world turning, and profit and loss as foreign as she will be to me.
I love that she will do this reckless thing, this leaving home, this ditching what she can to get the most out of her days and hours on the planet.
My hamster wheel looks awfully small from that beach.
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