I find an old notebook on the shelf and flip through it.
There is a list of things I wanted to start doing here:

Collect driftwood and create sculptures. Study seaweed, sand and shells under my microscope. Learn foreign languages by talking to the tourists. Learn the names of all the birds, trees and plants on the island. Host a radio show in the lighthouse. Have friends over for dinner. 

I’ve never done any of these things, but I still want to.
Was I lazy, or was work really too demanding? 

Next to the old list I compose a list of changes to my work situation I’m going to demand from my employers, the islanders. Seeing the pairing of the  writing of the old me and the current me makes me happy. The handwriting looks identical -I’m still the same.

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