All in all, I don’t have much to complain about my life. I lead, if nothing exaggerate, but still a comfortable life. I have a job which I enjoy most of the time. My marriage is satisfactory considering the fact that after seven years, there are still some sparks exist between two opposite human being. Add in my precious gift of life---my little diabolical two-year-old son who could only torture me two days a week because my parents help me to take care of him while we are on work—my life, almost perfect.  

Perhaps perfect is a big word. Face it, nothing is perfect in this imperfect world. There are always something still missing, something not good enough. For example, I don’t have many friends. I used to, but they kind of drifted apart. And I am not that type who could easily blend in and easily make new friends. I am a typical home woman.  I feel comfortable when I am alone, but in a crowd I don’t. That's not to say I am a complete social wreck. I could make some polite chitchat—even conjure up some dry jokes to break the ice if necessary, still I feel more comfortable when I am alone.  Besides, I don’t have a career. I have a job—several jobs if counting my sidelines---but nothing big enough to call as a career. I don't have a specific goal about my future and I never tried hard enough to get upper ladder----the incentive is not strong enough.

Perhaps I should be satisfied with where I am and who I am. It seemed that I already got everything I want: the familiar routine of nine-to-five, marriage, kid, living in the same place from cradle to grave—the peaceful life. Still sometimes like now, there comes this nagging thought : Is it all; is it all I can get?  I could sense the familiar restlessness lying like a snake coiled ready to strike at any moment---the urge to see more, to do more, to at least once taste the flavor of success instead of being contented with the mere mediocre.

However, I have a snowball’s chance in hell of having that “once”, so finally I turned off the daydream and went back the pileup documents in the desk.