Dear Jamie of the Future: It seems to me the only real reason to keep a journal of any sort is with the intention of one day re-reading it. The idea (frightening as it may be) is that one day you will be old enough to think the things you did when you were younger are interesting but that by this indiscernible age your memory will be so degraded you will be unable to recall them with any clarity and you'll have to read about it. If this is the case, then hello Jay dear. I hope you are happy. I hope you are successful. I hope you've sold some books and bought a home and settled on one hair colour. I hope you're still adventurous. I hope you're not too tame. I hope you still drive Jason crazy, if the old bugger's heart has lasted him this long.
A Day In The Life:
7:15am - Look at the alarm clock through one slitted eye. Groan. Remember that I work at home and go back to sleep contentedly.
9:00am - Feel Jason get out of bed, kiss me on the head, ask me how I slept. Groan so that he knows I'm not interested in being awake yet.
10:30am - Roll out of bed, crazy haired and wild eyed. Read my horoscope. Start producing grunts instead of groans.
11:12am - Turn on the old computer, curse at it until it sputters to a shaky stop.
12:30pm - Read my book while on the treadmill. Lately have been able to do so without falling off (major bonus!).
1:15pm - Shower with water so hot my skin turns an angry red colour. Consider the incredible promises my conditioner makes: "Embracing you like a meadow of fresh flowers, this luxurious conditioner will leave your hair deeply quenched, silky and flowing weightlessly. Revives every strand with essential replenishing moisture, restores suppleness and manageability, and leaves hair luminous and light." I mean, whoa.
1:33pm - Accidentally squeeze out too much moisturizer; spend 15 minutes trying to get some back in the bottle without waste or mess. Fail miserably. Create extra waste and mess.
2:04pm - Laugh uncontrollably at my snack: "Rice chips now made with sunflower oil", and think to myself WTF am I eating?
2:10pm - Consider calling Melly to discuss the above. Get halfway to recalling her number and then realize that I hate the phone and won't be calling anyone if it can be helped.
2:11pm - Loud shrilling ring of phone startles me. It's Melly. We decide to meet for drinks this evening.
2:42pm - Instead of making the bed as per good intentions, I dive right in, roll around, and sniff the sheets for sunshiney goodness.
3:14pm - Find mysterious piece of wood on carpet. Contemplate its existence.
4:57pm - Get new mine in my pencil. Wonder what the hell a 'mine' is in English. Just the lead? I really don't know. Why don't I know this word in English?
5:28pm - Wonder why I kept my sweaty socks balled up in my running shoes. Sure I only wore them for 45 minutes while working out, but even if I just needed socks to walk again, I still don't want to pull on sweaty socks. Throw socks at hamper. Miss. Think hard about going to pick them up, but don't.
6:00pm - Admit that my hair is fabulous, and should stop playing with it.
6:03pm - Submit the stuff I worked on all day long; have a pang of sadness to be sending away a piece of myself.
6:10pm - Sadness washed away with first daiquiri of the day.
6:35pm - Melly arrives. We finish the pitcher of daiquiris as she admires my new shoes. Off we go.
6:50pm - Laugh at all the skanky hos in Cornwall. There are many.
7:30pm - Joined at bar by friend Andrew. He compliments us on our cleavage.
10:00pm - Jason is off work, drops by the bar for 1 beer before he drives all us drunks home.
10:18pm - Freak out because I can't find my purse. Andrew reassures me that I am holding it.
11:00pm - Sway in front of the oven cooking Jason some dinner. Insist that I couldn't possibly eat anything in my condition, but then the chicken looks so delish I continually pick off his plate.
12:04am - Crawl into unmade bed; allow Jason to rub cream on my back and legs.
12:20am - Sloppy, half-drunken, delicious sex.
1:06am - Blissful sleep.