Late at night, when I dream of being a fulfilled, successful person with the respect of my peers & elders (and the money that accompanies such success), I imagine myself sipping a 25-year-old scotch under the stars at this place.
Then I go to sleep, wake up the next morning with a sore back (because I have a ridiculous pillow), take two ibuprofen and try to force my brain to fart out a word fire that will one day (hopefully) make that dream come true.
EDIT: I just realized that even in my dreams, I am apparently unable to imagine scotch older than 25 years. That’s sad. I also recently said in the BFF writers’ room that my goal in life was to have a treadmill in a room with DVR so I could run while watching the Daily Show & Colbert Report, because that 40-min-a-day would be the perfect workout. I need better dreams.