Why

As she pulled down the driveway on her way to work I watched her through a crack in the blinds. Once she had left I walked into the livingroom and flopped down on the couch. I sat there letting my eyes adjust to the light and I thought is this it? Is this all there is? My life wasn't exactly what I had imagined while I was growing up. Sitting there in the early hours of the morning it was easy to remember my younger
years. I realized that it was so easy to dream when I was a little boy. Then I wondered how many other people had passed from that land of dreams and fantasies of who they would become when they grew up, into the reality of a mundane lack luster life that is the mantra of the everyday working class adult. So when is it too late? When is it time to realize that dreams are only acceptable for the sleeping and that they no longer have a place in this life that has become merely a struggle to survive. While I could spend all day wishing about what could have been, Its time for work.