Before I went to NYC, I wrote three imagined diary entries, for my short story blog. Find them here, here and here. In these I imagined certain
parts of my trip and wrote the diary entry from my imagination knowing I would
find out for real in a few days time.
My problem is they were too good, I mean
too close to the truth, what I imagined would happen, did happen. They were
uncannily accurate. This depresses me somewhat. Those who know me will know
there is a certain miserly part of my brain. So next time I decide to go
somewhere on holiday, San Fran, Tokyo, Rio, my miserly brain might argue it's
not worth spending the money when I can live the experiences vicariously
through my stories. It's quite a compelling argument really, why travel half
away around the world when you can sit at home and experience it? After all you
travel for work, staying home might be nice, see now the tired of travelling part of my brain is getting in on the act. Hey think
of the cholesterol you wouldn't eat - aargh my health conscious part of my brain is weighing on the side of old miser too. And think how tired your
ankle was - oh god the anti-holiday coalition is taking over my brain, I’m
doomed to staycations for the rest of my life.
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