Trust Fund Baby

This weather is depressing.
After a week of sunshine and tanning and doing delightfully nothing (besides working); after a weekend of going shopping and getting one year older and eating gourmet french toast and getting teary eyed watching Shamu and friends leap from the water and finally, truly believing athat I can do anything, this grey sky, school and work and real life routine is severely depressing.
Some people enjoy living their lives of responsibility, working and then vacating for a week a year and doing it all over. Some how this is enough. Somehow, after one week, they are revitalized and ready to buckle down and get to work for the next 51 weeks.
I do not operate this way.
After any uber-joyful experience, I am left wanting more, always more, and find the return to normal life crushing. The more joyful and lengthy the experience, the harder it is.
Some people were meant to be trust fund babies.
Like me.
It's not that I'm lazy. Ask any one who knows me and they'll tell you I'm a hard worker and have been for the past 10 years.
It's that I would use it well. I would take that temporal freedom and that monetary freedom and build a life of adventure and unforgettable experience. An amazing life.
I wouldn't waste away in casinos or on beaches. I wouldn't waste it on expensive things to flaunt my privelege.
Life would rock.
Maybe that's not the best way to use it either.
I suppose I'm actually suppose to say I would use the money to help the poor, crippled orphans and tsunami victims of the world.
But the fact of the matter is, there is no trust fund, and my life is an unhealthy balance of school, work and not cleaning my house, so FUCK if I'll help any motherfucker out in my fantasy.