Yeah, the movie. Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman. About two terminally ill men who make a list of things they’ve always wanted to do before they “kick the bucket” – hence the name The Bucket List – and then they go and do all those things. It’s a sad movie, but I found it inspirational. It’s never too late to do the things you want to do, you are never too old, you will never know until you try, and all that jazz.
I remember my nineteenth birthday. My friends gave me a diary and a pen, and one of my first entries was about the birthday and how old I had become – I was nearly twenty - really juvenile, come to think of it- and I distinctly remember writing that I would love to do something great before I turned thirty. But eleven years go by in a flash, and here I am, no mountains conquered, no great novel written, no groundbreaking discoveries made, just a life lived worrying about the small things like where my next meal would come from, unimportant things like clothes and haircuts, complaining about the weather and the workplace and the traffic and holding petty grudges and not being appreciative enough.
I wish I could just chuck it all and go on an adventure. If only life wasn’t so full of duties and responsibilities and commitments. If only I was brave enough.