I'll get all the bottles of Ribena from near the till, and the ice creams out of the freezer. Then I'll grab loads of teddy bears to keep me warm and get one of the little cars to transport everything across the shop. Then I'll get cosy in one of the playhouses and pile it up with toys to keep me occupied, because there's no-one here to make me go to sleep. And as soon as I feel a weight on my eyelids I'll find the shiniest bike and ride it up and down the isles as fast as I can.
I'd daydream about being in the middle of an ocean or speeding down a fast river, with just my book and my drink, and how happy I'd be just floating along and reading.
Whenever we'd go on long car journeys on the motorway I'd visualise myself as a grown-up, with a grown-up car all to myself. I was determined that I wouldn't just rudely rush past all of the unexplored fields, with their footpaths rolling away before I had time to fix my eyes on them.
If I could, I'd jump over that fence. I'd run past the sheep and into the field behind as it basks in the late afternoon sun. I'd brush up against the crops and explore their unfamiliar textures. I'm sure there'd be a river hiding away from the road, so when I find it it'll be my own little secret.
When I grow up I'm going to stop off at every field that looks intriguing. I'll park the car somewhere and go and explore, walk down all the footpaths, see all of the sheep and horses and everyone driving past will think 'why haven't we had that idea?'. I'll walk on ground that humans have never walked on, and the animals will think of me as one of them.
My mind would be usually occupied by what it would be like if an episode of Goosebumps came true. Or how cool it would be to live in Orlando, Florida. Now, the thought of getting locked in a shop overnight makes my palms moisten. And I don't even dare imagine what it would be like to float down a river on a carpet mat, never mind the fact I'd last about two seconds before drowning.
Now, I try to imagine myself getting a job and settling down somewhere. I imagine what it would be like to have a fruit bowl full of fresh fruit all to myself. I try to visualise an email in my inbox from the Guardian saying 'Yes, we love your pitch'.
Somehow, the more realistic dreams are the hardest to fathom.