A short story about Sandra
Sandra was a day-dreamer. Â She always had her head in the clouds. She fantasized about places she would visit, outfits she would wear, people she would meet. She played the scenes out in her head. It was so real to her, that sometimes she would find herself having the conversations out loud. She had a strong desire to be great, to look great, to see great places and to meet great people. Sandra was a dreamer but not a doer.
Somehow she had grown up with a certain sense of entitlement, with a certain entrenched ideology which made her believe that if something was for you it would come to you â and she knew a life of greatness was meant for her. She could feel it. She was smart, she was attractive, she was charming she had all that it takes. As far as she was concerned, she just had to wait until the right moment, until the stars aligned and it was her turn to shine- all in due time. Until then, she day-dreamed.
She saw herself in politics, she saw herself being interviewed on TV, she saw herself attending the Grammys, she saw herself starring in an important movie, she saw herself writing a book, she saw herself saving the world. Sandra could feel that greatness was just around the corner. She felt it deep in her bones. It was something she knew would happen. It was just a matter of when, and until then, she day-dreamed.
Sandra saw her friends spend endless nights studying, working late hours, making plans and following them through. She observed them curiously, assisted where she could, but ultimately could not relate to the life choices they made. How mundane, how mediocre, how typical she thought. There was nothing great about that.
But little did she know, they all wanted to be great too.
        As time passed Sandra felt the burden of age and maturity, she felt less smart, less attractive and less charming. Her day-dreams became unsustainable.  Life didnât provide her with enough time to fantasize about her future; somehow she became trapped in the ânowâ.  And in the now, her friends were secure, and what she had thought was mediocre became very attractive. Sandra spent less and less time in the clouds, and it broke her spirit. Reality had never been a place she frequented, and now she found herself faced with a present she couldnât understand, and the inability to conjure up the future she once was so sure she was meant to have.
        Sandra couldnât day-dream.  Even when time would allow it, it was too painful to allow her mind to float back to that place in the clouds. She was trapped with a feeling of greatness deferred, she was stuck with a latent greatness that never got the chance to be. She had never done anything but wait, and now she was left with just a ticking clock and the best years of her life behind her.
But it wasnât over, and she knew what she had to do.
Thatâs why Sandra WAS a day-dreamer.
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