As I was eating lunch today, I wasn't feeling that well. I am pretty sure that I was slightly depressed. I don't think I'm depressed over anything in particular. I just wasn't in the mood for it to be Monday.

I decided I needed a little fantasy to lift my spirits. I grabbed a napkin and tried to imagine what a perfect day for me would be like. I imagined that I had all the money I would ever need and then some. I would have a loving companion who would never leave me. I imagined I was riding an incredible lucky streak that caused everything to go my way without the slightest bit of effort or manipulation on my part--an honest-to-god fantasy.

Here is what I imagined:

7:00 AM
I would awaken and head to my kitchen to find fresh coffee just finished brewing. On the counter would be a veritable smorgasbord of breakfast foods hot and waiting for my selection. I wouldn't have a maid or butler, because I don't like to talk to people in the mornings--they annoy me. So exactly how these things were made available to me is a mystery, but, then again, this is a fantasy. I would eat, smoke, drink coffee, and read a pre-sorted paper. To me, there are numerous useless sections of the newspaper. The mysterious servant who made my breakfast will have also pulled out the parts of the paper I read and have them arranged in the order that I like to read it. After 30-45 minutes of nicotine, caffeine, greasy breakfast foods, and the events of the world, I would retire to my luxurious marble bathroom and take a dump.

8:00 AM
After breakfast, it would be time to write something brilliant. I imagined myself being the type of writer people wait on with baited breath for my next great piece. Inspiration and skill are completely natural to me. I don't fumble through the thesaurus for exactly the right word or second guess my sentence structure. I don't even have to re-write or edit. The morning's piece unfolds in one continuous stream as a masterpiece and I didn't even break a sweat. Mere moments after posting the masterpiece to my website, it is syndicated a thousand times over and instantly devoured by my rabid followers. Within minutes, articles are appearing throughout cyberspace applauding yet another brilliant observation published by the United State's "leading man of letters".

9:00 AM
Having just proven to the world once again how brilliant I truly am, I would reward myself with a walk. My fantasy house is near a beach, a wooded trail, a mountaintop, and a suburban cul-de-sac simultaneously. All I have to do is go out one of my four doors and I am at my desired setting ready to enjoy the surroundings. Sometimes I take a dog and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I walk and sometimes I ride around on a motorized cart like the old folks in Wal Mart. I have no rules; no timetable. I can take as long as I want or I can turn around after 5 minutes and go back inside. It's all up to me and what I want.

10:00 AM
Refreshed by the morning air, I'm ready to go back inside and spend an hour surfing the Internet. I watch funny video clips and laugh until I want to soil myself. I check the headlines so I am "in the know" on the latest happenings. I search the world for my intellectual equal and, having found none, I ponder how the world would ever get along without me to guide them. This task, while humbling or stressful to some, is to me positively intoxicating.

11:00 AM
Just before the morning has faded; it's time for a quick nap. Since I have accomplished more in 4 hours than some will in a lifetime, I think I deserve it.

Noon
Fresh coffee is delivered to my bedroom by my fantasy girlfriend. She has a sweet girl-next-door face and the body of a stripper. She can speak intelligently on virtually any topic and yet she still manages to be youthful and sexy. She loves it when I make love to her and she always leaves satisfied. She never refuses my advances and the lengths she will go to please me are infinite. No matter how selfish, immature, or crudely I may act sometimes, I know that she is hopelessly devoted to me and will never leave. We passionately make love. We relax naked in the afterglow laughing, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. After a while, we get up and take turns soaping each other in the shower.

1:00 - 3:00 PM
My girlfriend and I decide to go shopping. Because I never have to worry about money, we simply go from store to store and point to what we want and they are ours instantly. A new Mercedes SUV? Mine. A diamond-incrusted belly button ring for her? Done. A whole new collection of custom-made suits? Go it. In a moment of sheer beauty, my girlfriend asks me, "But baby, where are we going to put all of this new stuff?" "I guess we will just have to add-on to the house," I say with a playful smirk. We laugh all the way home because she thinks any thing I say is the absolute funniest thing she has ever heard and I enjoy that.

4:00-6:00PM
Invigorated from our shopping spree, we return to the bedroom and go at it like dogs in heat. She praises me and my manhood again and again. I thank her for the compliments and inform her that it is time for my afternoon nap. She wishes me "sweet dreams", kisses my forehead, and goes off to another room to quietly wait until I call for her.

6:00 - 8:00 PM
I grab a quick shower and try on one of my new suits which has arrived freshly pressed and dry cleaned. I take my new SUV and drive to an upscale restaurant known for its ability to cater to the extremely rich and recluse members of society. I'm joined at dinner by two gorgeous women. One is a blonde and the other is a red head. I have never met these women before and they understand beforehand that this single night together will be our only encounter. It is an honor for them to spend time with me and I am pleased that they feel this way. They both are extremely intelligent and handle the conversation quite well. But, in the end, the last word on any subject is mine and they are okay with that. As the night goes on, they both begin to act tipsy even though they have not had any alcohol. The reality of this fantasy is that the effects of alcohol would be miniscule compared to my charm and wit. These ladies are drunk on me and I like that.

8:00 PM
We return to my house and, before I can close the door to my bedroom, I am being clutched and clawed from all sides. Dinner, though spectacular, was only the appetizer to these women. The main course was about to be served and their hunger only grew with each passing moment. I try to tease them for as long as possible, but we all know that I want them as much as they want me and they like that. The sex is a frenzy of flesh and fantastic climax after fantastic climax. We are spent and we all like that. Without having to lie or make petty small talk, the women get dressed and leave. I am alone in my bedroom with only my cigarettes and a mindful of memories.

9:00 PM
Armed with a fresh cup of coffee, I reenter my study and decide to put down on paper the blow-by-blow account of the sexual escapade. Though the world loves my writings beyond compare, this one will remain private. It is a cruel trick I like to play on them. The huddled masses hang on my every word, but this piece is only for me and I like that.

10:00 PM
I am all alone in my bedroom reliving the moments of only a few hours before committed to paper by my own hand. It is quiet and lonely. I am tired now. I have the entire world in my grasp. All I have to do is say the word and whatever I can imagine will be mine. I can go to sleep and tomorrow when I wake up I can do it all over again and again and again until I die and I wish I liked that.

Suddenly the fantasy is over. I'm now 20 minutes late getting back from lunch.

As I brush the crumbs from the front of my wrinkled shirt and hurry back to my low paying job, I am confronted with the relentless crush of reality.

I am not the savior of the world. I don't have a nice house or a status symbol car. I don't attract gorgeous women without saying a word and my writing continues to go widely unnoticed.

For reasons I can't understand, my mood has changed. I'm not depressed any more. I don't mind so much that it's Monday. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my fantasy will stay just that--a fantasy. It is one of those moments where you realize having everything you want will never be what you had hoped it would be. I had just taught myself a valuable lesson of life and I liked that.