My alarm goes off at about 7:30. It’s a song from the show Bob’s Burgers – even though it’s my alarm, I still love the song and find it hilarious. I wish I could write songs like that for a living.
I like to take my time getting ready in the morning. Rushing makes me anxious and that is not how I like to start the day. I’ll get showered first and decide whether or not today is a hair washing day (most of the time, it isn’t). In the bedroom I take my make-up bag, my make-up brushes bag, hair brush and dry shampoo out of my drawers and put them on the floor in front of the full-length mirror. I smother my face with E45 and decide what I’m going to look like today.
At the moment, winged eyeliner just isn’t working for me. I’m not sure when we had a fall out but I’d really like to make-up (geddit). Anyway, it seems that every time I try to put some on it looks terrible and I have to wipe it away, which really frustrates me. Today I just go for my new standard look – peachy eyeshadow with a smidgen of black eye pencil and that strawberry Vaseline stuff (I bite my lips when I’m stressed/anxious/nervous/hungry, so basically all the time).
After pulling on my navy blue catsuit garment that I’ve already worn once this week and somewhat styling my hair, I go to the kitchen for breakfast. I’m a creature of habit as well as particular tastes, so I enjoy a bowl of gluten free porridge oats (the Tesco’s own brand) with chopped up banana and dark chocolate chips (also Tesco’s own brand), alongside a cup of coffee (no sugar, dash of milk).
I’ll still have a bit of time before I leave so I’ll probably take my time with breakfast and chat with my SO. Maybe I’ll write in my bullet journal of things I am remembering I need to do that day – but probably not.
At 9am I start the walk to work. It’s quite industrial so there’s not a whole lot of pretty things to look at, though I do enjoy looking at some of the abandoned and boarded up buildings. I think there’s something oddly beautiful about them, as if they could be in a poetic montage or something.
At 9.30 my work day starts (which is only 4 hours as I am part-time). I greet my super lovely boss (seriously she’s the nicest) and get on with tasks for the day. I’m still very new so I’m learning a lot as I go. I appreciate the short days as it stops me from getting overwhelmed now that I’m back in the work place after a year of freelancing.
By 1.30 I am walking back home and absolutely ravenous. I walk past lots of other worker bees who are out getting their lunch and wonder what jobs they do and if they like doing them. The bus drives past me and I think of how good it is that I saved £1.60 (each way) by walking. I take my phone out and text a very old friend to see if she’s free for a chat. She is, thankfully, and so I spill my guts to her.
When I’m home and have found something to eat for lunch, I think about all the stuff I wanted to do today, and all the stuff I should have done yesterday, and get a bit stressed out. There’s boring stuff like sorting out a return for a parcel to even more boring stuff like ordering groceries online. I might do one or two boring things, just to get them out the way.
By then I’m tired. I want to sit and stare into space, or better yet, lie down and have a nap. But then I think about my blog, and all the things I should do for that, so I open up my laptop. I like to sit on the uncomfy sofa (which was part of this furnished apartment) when I’m being productive, I think it helps my posture or something. It also looks out at the window. We don’t have the best view but there’s still lots to look at, and I appreciate watching the weather do it’s thing.
At around 3.30 I shut the window because we are practically next door to a school, and kids are loud when they get to go home (who can blame them).
By 4-ish I’m pooped and a bit hungry again. I hold off the temptation to make dinner an early-bird special. I reflect on what I have managed to get done today and realise it’s diddly-squat compared to what was on my list. Yet again, I’ve left the ‘big’ stuff til later, meaning that the ‘big’ stuff will have to be moved til tomorrow because I simply don’t have the mental energy at this point.
I go through my social media notifications (I have recently turned off push notifications and it’s blissful). Then maybe just have a scroll on Twitter and Instagram. If I haven’t already, then I would change into pyjamas. Maybe waste some time before dinner watching Youtube videos. Pretty much just waiting for an appropriate dinner time.
Huzzah – it’s time for dinner! I plan out our weekly meals so that 1) we can budget and 2) so that we don’t waste food. Whilst I’m cooking, if the meal lets me step away for ten minutes, I will do yesterday’s dishes, because I’m good like that.
Fun fact: If I’m cooking a rice dish I will cook way too much rice. I can never seem to get the quantity right. Plus, I absolutely love rice. I would eat a bowl of plain rice quite happily.
We sit down to dinner and even though we have a perfectly good dinner table in the kitchen, we plonk ourselves down on the sofa. As we eat we watch a few episodes of whatever TV show we are currently watching (which is Veep at the moment. I’ve watched it all before but my SO hasn’t, and they are so funny it’s very easy to re-watch). We either eat fast enough to still feel hungry when the plate is cleared, or we just carry on eating an extra portion which could have been saved for the next day.
I could continue watching episode after episode, but my SO doesn’t like that style (which is understandable as he doesn’t want to become sick of watching the TV show). I actually managed to make him watch ALL of Stranger Things in one day last year, which was harder than you might think. Anyway, after a few episodes we decide on what we want to do with the rest of the evening. Depending on energy levels, we might write, watch a movie or play video-games. I like our evenings.
By around 10ish PM I start getting ready for bed so that I have time to read. Most evenings I can’t even be bothered with the getting ready for bed part. Once we are in bed, with a fresh glass of water beside each of us, we read. We always talk about stuff too, whether it’s everyday life things or whatever is on our mind.
I like the deeper conversations because it reminds me of having a sleepover when you’re a teenager, when the dark acted as a cover to spill all your insecurities and secrets.
At around 11ish PM both of our lamps are off, though some of the lights from outside are peeking through the curtains. We always begin sleep by holding each other. That physical intimacy helps my worries to float away so that I can actually get some sleep, ready for the next day to start the cycle all over again.