Bucket list when I was 6
I want the tooth fairy to give me
2 new teeth really quick!
When I was 8
I want to become an airhostess
and see the world. (Now that I’ve got my 2 front teeth).
At 11
Air-hostesses are fluffy. I want
to become a pilot and see the world.
At 15
I want to marry Shahrukh Khan.
At 17
I want to marry the guy next door.
At 21
I don’t ever want to marry. I
want to work hard and become rich and famous.
At 22
I’m sick of working. I want to
marry someone rich and famous.
At 23
I want to save the world and all
its animals and people and trees.
At 24
I want to learn to dance the
flamenco, and learn the guitar, and learn Spanish, and work on a film script,
and travel the world, and work all day and party all night.
At 25
I don’t want a single one of the
above. I want to get a house of my own, with wonderful kids and a dog, and sit
at a window and look at the sky and write a book, and write a column and write
a blog .... and read and read... and write and write.
At Now.
Got there. Living my bucket list
right now. Don’t seem to have anything more I want to do. I’m boring!!!! Help!
But guessing from the way my life
is, I’m sure I’ll have one tomorrow, and a new one a year later. Maybe write
that film script? Maybe work in a small town in France or Papua New Guinea?
Maybe go look after polar bears or koala bears or tigers in the Sunderbans?
I guess what I’m trying to say is
that my bucket list in a work in progress. The bucket seems to have a hole at
the bottom and the handle’s too rusty to carry around for long. It also seems
to change shape. Sometimes it’s the size of the plane I wanted to learn to fly.
Right now, it’s so tiny it’s non-existent. I’d like to see my 2 li’l boys grow
up to start working and stand on their
own 2 feet. That’s about it. Before that, I refuse to kick the bucket. Or even
think of one. (The one that’s overflowing in the bathroom, draining out the
water tank, while I sit and write this blog).
