Incomplete Ideas

It was a fantastic kind of day. The kind of day where you could lay on the carpet of the living room floor and think about fantastic things. The kind of day that made the breeze stir the curtains around you giving small glimpses of the white, puffy clouds beyond. It was the kind of day that made you not care if the boy you have a crush on down at the pizza place knows you exist because the wind is rustling the leaves and the neighbor's wind chimes and that is enough. It was the kind of day where you felt you could achieve any goal instantly - learn to play guitar in one sitting, illustrate a book with captivating images, speak perfect French...

The only thing you can't seem to do on this day is call your father to ask for college application money because you're too busy running your bare toes through the carpet and enjoying the breeze...

...and because you already know what he'll say.