Go to your happy place

"But I'm already here...", I thought with a little sigh of content.

The owner of the wine store where I work part time had told me to "Go to my happy place" during a jovial conversation we were having. What he doesn't know is that his little store has become a haven for me in the last year and a half. Nothing relaxes me more than walking through the aisles, running my hands over the brightly colored labels, fantasizing about the treasures inside the bottles. Not just the wine, but the culture behind it. I think about the workers who picked the grapes, the idyllic vineyard sites, the fun the staff must have coming up with their marketing schemes, and the fantastic meals the people involved share when enjoying the fruits of their labor.

I enjoy chatting with my regular customers about their lives, and recommending new wines that I think they will like. Nothing gets me more excited than when someone comes in and tells me that they loved the last bottle that I put in their hand. It's very satisfying to introduce someone to a new wine - kinda like the pride you get when you introduce two of your oldest friends and they end up getting along famously.

Whenever anyone asks me the question, "What would you do if you won the lottery?" I always know my answer. I would buy the wine store. I'd spend all day piddling around inside, chatting with customers and vendors, writing monthly newsletters, planning tastings and organizing classes.

Alas, this dream is far from being realized. In my mind I am way too practical to throw myself into the inevitable hell of owning small business. But I can still fantasize about my wine life, right?