A Morning of Writing Nothing

I stare at the ceiling in my bedroom, and wonder what day it is.

8am:

I wake up, my body still reminded of the time when I'd have a routine or a schedule. I stare at my ceiling, conflicted, trying to decide if I'm going to sleep in or let the retired corporate clock win again. I feel the urge to get up due to reasons, but I try to fight it and convince myself that it's not urgent. I glance over at my phone; 1 minute has passed, and I'm still having a debate about whether I should or shouldn't get up today.

I think to myself, maybe I can prolong getting out of bed as my final act of rebellion by going on my phone, either by opening a social media app like Instagram or by playing a game like Pokémon Masters EX. I convince myself that as long as I don't get out of bed, I've won, especially this early. This method works in the sense that I end up not getting out of bed for another hour or so due to doom-scrolling or silly gaming, as my eyes try to adjust to the new day.

9am:

My doom-scrolling or gaming session has been interrupted by an alarm clock. Not my alarm clock, but my lovely partner's alarm clock. He hits snooze, tosses and turns, then falls back asleep within second. He's a champion at this sleeping sport, really. I go back to my phone, lurking on Reddit now, to see if there is a new thread about Love Is Blind Season 9 (which... YIKES) or about how the games I play are more pay-to-win rather than free-to-play. I ignore that and continue on into the endless abyss of numbing threads.

As I settle into my new comfort, I'm jolted back into existence due to my partner's alarm going off again. He hits snooze and goes back to sleep effortlessly. This dance will continue until about 10:30 a.m. when he officially wakes up to start his day. Fortunately for me, I decide to get out of bed after the second alarm and "start" my day. Think of the normal stuff in the morning; I do them. Sometimes my beard will be a mess or my bald head will be looking like a chia pet, so I'll add shaving in the shower to the itinerary for the day. Moisturize after because looking pretty at 30 comes with some effort. Thanks, Elemis, for having my back.

10am:

I continue to hear the alarm clock periodically from the bedroom, even though the door is closed. I laugh to myself on the couch as I look at my tiny screen for an answer to what to do today. Will I walk? Will I write? Will I binge Game of Thrones like that one year in college? Who knows what the day will bring for me, as I open another app and scroll into oblivion. It's not like there's ever really anything interesting on there, but it's a nice dopamine kick. Soon my stomach starts to do its thing and ask for food, so my mind pulls up a few tabs of what I could eat.

A great distraction from doing anything else. Yes, I like this plan. What should I eat? Let's see, there's Starbucks. I have stars left over from the last time, so maybe I should get a sandwich, or a cold brew with the seasonal cold foam on top, or both. How exciting! Maybe I should be a good partner and surprise the boo with a drink too. Why not?! I pull up the app and place my order. 5 to 7 minutes until it's ready for pickup. Oh, what fun. I get dressed and invite the sleepy boyfriend on the walk, to which he politely declines as he hits snooze again. I grab my keys, wallet, phone (all important!), and walk out the door. As I wait for the elevator, I get a push notification saying that my order is ready. How thoughtful of them to let me know. What a kind capitalist.

I walk outside and am immediately charmed by how nice the day is. The city is awake at 10 a.m., and it's nice to be out and about before I crawl back into my apartment like the coffee goblin I am, but in this moment, I like it. I get to Starbucks, the usuals are there, I grab my stuff and go. Making my way back to the apartment, I start to get this plausible sensation that this trip to Starbucks and picking up my coffee order was a tiring task, and that if I choose to do nothing the rest of the day, I at least did something.

11am:

The cold brew brings me the caffeine-induced paranoia needed to pull me into my loosely scheduled professional career spiral. Have no fear, I tell myself, for there are plenty of hours left in the day to accomplish something, and even still, I was able to go outside and get coffee, right? I laugh to myself, thinking that scheduling my own coffee run makes me an assistant to myself. But after the assistant (me) does the job, when do I actually do the thing? When do I actually start to write or even ideate? Sigh... I turn on the TV.

Technology has grown so much since I was little; what a great way to pass the time and appreciate the growth of society. Let's look at TV, for instance. I was almost conditioned to love cable networks and commercial jingles. Luckily, streaming platforms came out and helped me develop a TV disorder. Watching anything with more than a 30-second commercial irritates me now, and at the same time, I can play a whole series without interruptions and forget literally all of it in a second. And when interest in that particular show kicks off the dust in my brain, it's canceled by some mega-corp spewing things like "profits" or whatever. I just want Sense8 back, okay? Geez.

I sit here and think about how addicted I am to binge-watching content that I really do classify this as a disorder. Right on schedule, going from panic spiral to psychologist, woo - I'm busy today! Imagine if we only felt loved for longer than a 30-second commercial, where might we be? Okay, philosophical therapist... chill... it's too early. My subconscious takes control, back to streaming. I hear there's a super cringey season of a problematic dating show; let's watch it, then fight with our significant other! My assistant (me) comes in and squeezes in a small argument about nothing important around dinner time, marking the other party as optional.

The reality dating show plays in the background, and I immediately pull out my phone. I told you I'm busy. I look to see if my email has an update from my job search (no) or if there is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that reads "We want you to be the next writer on our hit show!" - which would be hilarious and iconic even though I haven't written anything. It'll be like fate, like the universe knew and chose me! I look at my inbox and see a 50% promotional email, the same one that was sent at 6 a.m., now arriving again. Silly marketers, I'm waiting for my big break here, move along.

12pm:

My boyfriend comes out of his work meeting to ask if we should heat up leftovers from the night before for lunch or order something. I sit there with severe brain-fog like I've been hit with the hardest question known to man, and say "up to you!", we eat the leftovers. Damn, I really wanted a Thai food, why didn't he know that? Maybe I can use this in the small argument later, how efficient of me. So proactive of me for coming up with things to fight about, ahead of schedule I might add.

He goes back to work and I sit on the couch finishing up lunch, feeling better from the morning spirals. The thought of writing enters my mind again, and I actually entertain it. I start to think about what I should write today, but then, like clockwork, immediately feel pigeonholed with the thought of only writing one thing, and force myself to think about all the other things I could write today too! I could write a page or 10 for a book idea that I've had, and even work through the backstories of characters and places for that world, and even another blog post. The thoughts around all of this are all so exciting, and I start to feel like I can conquer the world!

I open my laptop, and with this sudden rush of adrenaline, open up my drafts and start editing any work that I've done previously. Rewriting endlessly until a sentence or paragraph makes sense. I take a mental break and check my phone for any updates. A reply from unemployment to submit my benefits for the week, whoops, let me do that real quick! I'll get back to writing after, I tell myself. It starts to feel like things are getting better as I enter the afternoon.

I get a push notification from the apple news app with a bold & gloomy headline. Another one, and another one, and another one. I stop writing. I stop what I'm doing. I resume streaming, binging as much content as I can to drown out the noise. How fun today has been!

I can't get too off schedule here though, I have an argument later!