What is the difference between a fantasy and a daydream. I am not sure if I have a rich fantasy life or if I daydream a lot. But if there is some difference between them, maybe I vacillate and do both.

In my daydreams I’m capable and brave and have the courage of my convictions. I try to live this way in my day-to-day life, but I can be incapable, cowardly, and shirk my responsibilities. I can even be rather selfish and mean, something I seem to be able to avoid in my fantasy life.

In my fantasies I’m better than I am, but maybe not better than I could be. I’m the me without the frailties of my real self. I’m me at my best instead of me as I truly am. I don’t think I’m a horrible person, but I also know I could do and be better.

In my daydreams, I can confront the people out there in the world who are public figures. I get a chance to sit them down and say what I would like to say to them. Things like, “What in God’s name were you thinking? That has to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.” Since people in the public eye are often caught out doing stupid things, I find this to be a wonderful recurrent daydream. Getting hold of one of these people and just letting them have a dose of reality as I see it.

In my daydreams, I am able to speak to the multitudes and get a message across. Sometimes this message is to a group of people who are annoying me. This, like the celebrities above, gives me a chance to convince people who are behaving “wrong” and offer my brilliant insight to help them make better choices and live the way I think they should. So I might be able to talk to a convention of [insert current group that is bothering me] and help them past their journey into the land of stupid.

In my daydreams, I can sing beautifully and dance gracefully. In reality, my singing voice makes people weep and I can’t stand still on a Wii Fit board without nearly falling off the thing. But in my dreams, I’m light on my feet and give visual voice to the music playing in my head.

In my daydreams, I am a published author. Not on some online venue, but in bookstores. The kind of published you can hold in your hand and flip through the pages. And my writing is not only accepted, but is well received. I don’t need to be on the New York Times best seller list, even in my daydreams. This is probably the one dream I could manage to turn into reality if only I had the courage to pursue it more rigorously. And in my dreams, I do.

My fantasies aren’t outrageous. At least, not to my mind. They are the “if only” type of musings. If only I was less cautious. If only I was more willing to make the effort. If only I stopped daydreaming and used the time I spend in reverie doing the things I dream of.

Some of my fantasies take lots of money. I would love to travel around the world, stopping at various places for extended periods of time. I would like to take adventurous vacations and try new things. In reality, when I’m out at a restaurant, I won’t even try new foods. But I would like to be that brave woman who takes charge of her life and lives her dreams.

Instead I’m the person who obsesses about clutter in the house, making sure stuff is neatly stored out of view. My accomplishment for yesterday was getting the Wii to work with the new controllers. Today, I’ve shopped online, which shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But Amazon dot com doesn’t take PayPal and I wanted to use funds languishing in PayPal to pay for my Kindle. I did figure out how – which was really simple once I Googled the question. I got the answer, followed instructions, bought the Kindle. And found out how to get rid of the shipping and handling charge. Big deal.

These are the types of things I spend my days on. Minutiae. Insignificance. Trite. But in my dreams, I’m some sort of valiant heroine capable of changing the world.

All I really need now is a cape.