I’m being taunted by swimming pools.
I love pools.
In my “win the lottery” fantasy, I have an enormous pool with a hot tub and water slides. I float around in a comfy inflatable raft and a handsome cabana boy brings me blender drinks.
Even a modest pool would make me giddy, though.
Imagine the torture that out our bedroom window, I can see a neighbor’s in-ground pool — and that in  three years living here, I’ve never seen a human in that pool.
Now let’s compound it. At the house we rented in New Orleans for three months last year, it’s a nearly identical scene: just behind a fence is an even-nicer in-ground pool that I don’t think anyone ever uses.
Having big, lonely swimming pools close enough to hear the filter running caused me to think about the cliché of the grass always being greener on the other side.
Is it the reality or the fantasy that’s calling to me? Do I just fantasize about having a pool because I don’t have one? If I had one of these pools, would I resent the maintenance involved and eventually decide it’s not worth the bother?
What is it about seeing someone else (seemingly) underappreciate something that makes you want it more? Have you ever seen someone push away an uneaten piece of cake and suddenly become consumed with desire for that cake?
What do I have in my life that someone else is looking at longingly and wondering why I don’t appreciate it more? What wonderful things do I take for granted? What am I not taking advantage of that’s right in my own backyard?