I want to sell all my clothes to a consignment shop and start my wardrobe from scratch.
I want red hair. Maybe permed again.
I want to pierce my nose. [This, however, will not happen until December 2011 after graduation, lest the full burden of paying my tuition fall to me.]
I want to be the person who says, “Oh yes, I have good music, let me introduce you,” instead of being introduced. Not that being introduced is bad, of course, but I aspire to greater things.
I want, oh so badly, to become a morning person. Every attempt thus far has failed.
Hesitantly, I say that I want to learn to enjoy coffee. I enjoy everything about it, thanks to the heart of a barista in me [a good one, not the Starbucks variety] inspired by my first boss, except the taste.
I want to learn to cook.
I want to develop the self-discipline to eat healthier. And to exercise.
I want to make more trips to the beach.
I want to remember how to write stories.
I want to resume piano lessons, both as a student and as a teacher.
I want to break free from minimum-wage employment.
I want to have an original idea. If such a thing is possible.