Sometimes I want to be those girls who take Polaroid’s
And can pull off hats
And not washing their hair for more than a day.
Sometimes I want to be those boys who climb trees
And run bases in summertime
And jump off things
And love being covered in dirt.
Sometimes I want to be those women who push strollers
And rock babies
And tie shoe laces of little ones
And make lunches before school.
Sometimes I want to be those men who wear long sleeved shirts with shorts
And surf in the morning
And watch football
And grill steaks on a warm spring day.
Sometimes I want to be those teachers who get apples
And write with dry erase markers
And teach about Hemingway and Austen and Bronte,
And change kids’ lives.
Sometimes I want to be those writers who think they’re brilliant
And that blogs are beneath them
And write on corners of napkins
And get published in The New Yorker.
Sometimes I want to be those professionals who have corner offices
And make decisions at long tables
And wear cute shoes to work
And have a window view of some pretty trees or the ocean.
And sometimes I want to be me who goes to work with nice people
And learns in class with fun peers
And sleeps in on weekends
And has sole possession of the remote control.