Daydreams of European monuments, streamlined canyons, or towering NYC skyscrapers — you want to be there — anywhere but behind that beaten wooden desk seated in that uncomfortable metal chair in that small town with over-visited coffee shops and that one decent store that you’re memorized every corner of.
Responsibility is a thing, finances are as well, I’m afraid. That uncomfortable metal chair supports a productive, working individual that might not be capable of jumping into a vintage Volkswagen at a moment’s notice to go visit all of the nation’s national parks; sooooo you stare out the window of the over-visited coffee shop and brood.
Silver linings, blessings of the subtlest variety — you will have a weekend, you will have an hour to yourself. So you lose yourself in Plato’s Republic, which causes your mind to wander, you explore the streets of that town that is only an hour away (but hey, it’s somewhere new) which causes your feet to wander, and you realize that those small moments of escape are infinitely more enjoyable because of the predominance of the mundane.