The Best Job in the World - Pick Me!

I'm tempted. I really am. After all, who wouldn't want to apply for the Best Job in the World! Some lucky person will live in an oceanfront villa in Australia, swim, snorkel, get acquainted with the locals, and receive $100,000+ for doing it for six months.

Sign me up!

I travel around the nation speaking and usually I fly in and out of airports. I'll be in Chicago on the 27th of this month, but back home by the 28th. I could describe all of the major airports in detail, but sitting in an airport or viewing the scenery as you cruise down the highway to a hotel or conference center isn't sightseeing.

But every once in a while that routine breaks and I get to hang out. Like last January when I traveled to San Diego. The lady who picked me up in her PT Cruiser must have seen the longing in my face as we passed the ocean.

"Do you want to detour?" she asked.

Did I!

She spent an hour driving along the ocean front. We stopped and watched the seals. We checked out the navy yard. I stood in the breeze and let the salty air was over me.

There's something that the ocean does to me. It draws me in. I love sitting in the sand, barefooted, the wind blowing in my hair as I study the capped waves and the vast blue sky. I love walking along the edge, the warm water swishing around my ankles.

Would I leave the U.S. for 6 months? Only if Richard could come with me. My kids might object. But I'd convince them that Australia would be a great place to visit. My mom would miss us, as would the in-laws. Ditto. Ditto. Jump on a plane, folks. The door's always open.

I could work from Austraiia. I have a feeling 6 months of sky and ocean and snorkeling and hanging out with new friends would revive not just me, but my writing.

Will I apply? You bet I will. And then you'll see me jumping up and down just like the scene in Shrek, saying:

Pick me! Pick me!