It doesn't mean you're loaded.

found on flickr via weheartit
My life right now is just working working working, trying to earn enough money to keep me in lattes and Vans sneakers for the whole school year.

I'm not really a morning person, but lately mornings are my favorite time of day. Driving up 101 N is just bumper-to-bumper traffic with a few random sections of clear freeway. There are always clouds hanging over 101 in the mornings and it's usually chilly, which usually reminds me of my life four years ago, when my only summer job was playing horseback riding camp instructor to eight and nine year olds for a few weeks every summer. I'm terrible with kids, less so with horses, and I can handle adults as long as they aren't screaming in my face (it happens more than you'd think with kids and summer camps). When I'm driving to work sometimes I think about how I'd rather be riding, or graining school horses before the sun comes up, or slogging through mud in the pasture at the bottom of the hill, or even wrangling small children and leading them around a big, empty arena for an hour like that's some kind of quality lesson time.

I'd rather be riding. I'd rather be somewhere else. I'd rather have something to look forward to. I'd rather run away from everything the real world represents, including but not limited to: responsibility, availability, flexibility, dependability, ability. The ability to live. Living. I'd rather not be.

That's what the license plate frame should say, anyway.