Day One.

“In the morning, it takes me quite a while to clear my head
And as the day moves on, I find it hard to smile at something said
So I took control, priority number one, and that’s me”

– DOWN: “Ghosts Along the Mississippi.”

A startled half-lunge for the vibrating phone – SNOOZE/DISMISS. success. An extra fuzzy ten minutes, familiar sinking feeling…what is it I have to do today? Eyes shut, question unanswered, sliding back into peaceful and restful…wait for it…vibrate vibrate alarm ringtone: “Stars” [whatever the holy heck that means], familiar call to arms. Legs swung, feet on ground, stiff back stretch stretch crack and I’m awake, I’m awake. [As if the phone would care].

My mind, blinking and squinting in a dull panic, switches right to default. Walk – turn – stairs – walk – kettle [coffee] – toaster [breakfast] – toilet [piss]. What is it that I have to do again? My very own default setting is not a dreamer nor a high achiever – small steps wins the race, boy. breakfast toast? check. caffeination? check. shit, shower and shave? check. Good, shit sorted. Now, if I could only remember what it is I’m meant to do today.

Morning chit chat peppers the cold autumn morning. The two remaining members of the household leave for their own personal morning commute/morning warfare. And…exhale. Peace and quiet. Good, great. Laptop on, music on. That cable isn’t right, where did that come from? that board is squint now, left, left, right, done. OK where was I. Who knows, maybe my morning cigarette will tell me.

Inhale, inhale, and exhale. Bloody hound its a crisp one. Sipping cold coffee, Piano Man drifting out my JVC portable wireless. All is right with the world. Wait a minute, Queen on this playlist? No thank you. Change. Try that third one. Ah, Otis Redding, you’re very welcome this morning dear friend. Shuffle Play.

I know, I know, I should get round to another couple chapters. There’s washing, ok that’s another tick. Dinner prep…well that can wait until later. Right so, 10:04. Water on the hob at 17:00. Countdown to forced labour begun, boy, seconds counting, tick tock. Let’s check the list again so reading, washing…what else is it I’m meant to do today?

Mug empty. Another soon I reckon, though can’t break my three a day limit. Don’t want to die too soon do you old chap. 25 now, holy Moses, getting on auld chap. Better keep busy. The sun’s breaking through and a cigarette is a’callin’. It can wait a couple minutes or two. Think, think, what are you doing with your day? No answer. No answer. I ask you one simple question, mind, and you can’t even do that properly? Unbelievable.

I know, question answered. I’ll start a journal. Always wanted to, never have, better start now. 25 years without even a diary? There’d be no trace of you. Best to start now.

Shuffle Play.

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