It’s 8:53 at night. I’m sitting in a rocking chair, the only one in the room. The windows are open and the breeze cools the room, as Michael Bublé serenades me sweetly in the background. I’m flipping through pages of my own previous thoughts, working away on finishing the book that I’ve been writing for some time now. 

Today I woke up, made breakfast and then headed downtown. After spending an hour in the library picking out some fantastic new reads, I headed to a nearby park where a lot of homeless people hang out for some location scouting for the documentary I’ll be shooting in a few weeks.

There was a group feeding the homeless today, and so there were a multitude of people out. I met a couple of crazy people. No, really. I met some crazy people. I also met some really cool people, including a guy who is going to help introduce me to the people that I need to interview for the documentary. His name is Q. No, really. His name is Q.

I returned to my apartment for lunch and later joined some friends to watch the Real Madrid vs ATL Madrid futbol game. After dropping one of my best friends off at the airport, I made dinner, talked to my mom on the phone, and watched a chick flick, and now I’m writing a book.

Is this the dream?

Yes, it most certainly is.