My imaginary life

I’m a dreamer, I know it.

Two days ago I saw a job ad that had the words “total lifestyle change” in the title. Clicking on the link, I saw a job based on a remote Scottish island.

Of course, I had to check a map to see exactly where this island was. And while I was there I had a look at pictures of what the island looked like. I immediately saw myself working there and living there, without even having a good look at the job description.
At lunchtime I looked at property for sale on the island. It’s a small place, only a few hundred people live there so not many places to choose from. But I found a place I liked, and then mapped how I would get to work. (Pretty easy – there’s only one road.)

In the evening, I looked at the properties again with my husband (he’d picked a different house from the few available) and we argued the benefits of each.

We checked the ferry and plane schedules to see how frequently we could get to the mainland. We realised we would probably need a car, although the cost of taking the car on the ferry to the mainland was considerable. (“Aren’t there discounts for residents?”)
We checked out the website for the island’s pub. We speculated on what we liked the look of on the pub menu and whether they had a sufficient selection of real ale to keep my husband happy.

We looked up to see how many shops there were. (Two, plus a post office.)

We looked at aerial views of the island (so many white sandy beaches!). I decided that in the presence of so much sea I would want to go swimming but I then realised for Atlantic swimming I would need something more substantial than a regular swimsuit so I looked up the cost of cold water wetsuits.

I posted about the job and my whole new imaginary life on Facebook. Lots of people said go for it – apply! One other dreamer friend said she had checked the cost of flights to come visit already.

Two days later and I’m already picturing myself travelling up to the island for an interview. Thanks to Google maps I have already seen the road I would travel down. (Maybe I could walk there?)

Did I mention I haven’t fully studied the job description or written my application yet?

Instead I’m pondering the difficulties (cost!) of getting a removal firm to take our whole house of stuff over to the island. I’m wondering how our cat will cope with the long journey to the island – do we fly him up or take him by train and ferry? I’m looking at the summer dress I’m wearing today and thinking “This is just one of the pieces of clothing I won’t get to wear when I’m living on the island.”

Does anyone else suffer from these kinds of flights of fancy, creating a whole other imaginary life? It can’t be just me, can it?