When it boils down to it, what becomes more important? Money or the dream?
As I lazed in bed with The Boyfriend today, curled up in the nook of his shoulder we talked about dreams and possibilities. Of quitting working, setting up a business somewhere, running it fully, happily, chasing lifelong wants of things we had always aimed to do. His supreme excel skills though would be wasted on my efforts, taking a back seat to a life of leisure and schmoozing.

Then he reminded me, of the upcoming possibility of a promotion, and the hefty salary increase that comes together with it. Amounts I could never forsee if I ventured off on my own. A return I could not even imagine until many many years down the line.

But we wondered though, him and I, if it would still be worth it. To have that peace and calm in life and to say fuck it all and go off and do something you want.

He gallantly offered me his window sill as a place to stay temporarily if I ever got evicted.

The dream or the money?