It’s 8am and it feels like I’ve had one of those bad nights sleep where you just can’t wait for it to be morning so you can get up and get on. I first woke up at 5am as the electric blanket had been left on all night. I love how comforting it is when I first get in bed but after I’ve slept for a bit, it just gets uncomfortable. I then woke up again at 7am and knew I wasn’t going to get any more sleep. It’s not exactly blue skies outside but the light shone right through our blue curtains and I struggle to sleep when it’s light. I often think that I’d sleep better with blackout ones but I shrug that off because I don’t think it’s healthy for me to wake up to a dark room. I noticed my wrist aching so I probably had slept on it all night. It probably will be a pain all day.
I picked up my phone from underneath my pillow and sat up a little. I went straight to Instagram as it’s my favourite app right now. I scrolled through and somehow ended up on someones blog. It was a pretty cool site. I often think that my blog is not very together. It’s messy and unprofessional. I constantly compare it to others. However, it literally is just a place for me to come and express myself, in any way that I want to at that moment in time. I don’t set rules or boundaries – as long as it’s not something too private or someone else is involved it’s fine by me. I just let myself become immersed in what’s going on and it just seems to flow out of me as easy as breathing is. There’s no long pauses to think about what to write next or how to write. It’s my favourite way of communicating and it’s the best way of figuring out some kind of structure and direction to what is actually going on up there. I firstly do it for me and secondly for the reader. All of the creative things I do, I do for me first. I think it should always be that way.
My alarm officially went off at 8am and I turned it off, gave my sleepy partner a cuddle, crawled down to the end of the bed and climbed out. I opened the door, asked Jasper if he wanted to come and entered the living room and then the kitchen. I grabbed a tall glass, poured some juice and ran the cold tap. I’m feeling particularly dehydrated this morning. I honestly only drank two of these glasses yesterday. I took it and sat down at my computer. Our desks are both in the living room. We spend more waking time at them than anywhere else in the house, even the sofa. Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten used to it but the light doesn’t seem to be as bright in here. As I look through the dark-brown framed window I was see grey clouds and damp green bushes. It’s so peaceful this morning. I can hear the birds outside and the odd car going by. I look down to my Apple keyboard laid down on a shaded bamboo surface and it comforts me. I wake up my iMac and open up WordPress.
I’m feeling slightly sick this morning. I’ve had a cold for a week now and I often get some mild nausea with it. My stomach often produces too much acid anyway but I think it’s the phlegm in my stomach causing this. I don’t really mind it too much but it interferes with how much I drink and I just don’t enjoy eating. I hope it clears up later because I am going to a vegan festival in Nottingham this morning and I want to eat things. That is after a quick stop off at McDonald’s en route so my partner can load up his laptop and do some urgent business. I admit that it isn’t the ideal place for a vegan to be. McDonald’s did pretty much introduce the western world to factory farms but it just happens to be an ideal location and my partner is a meat eater who enjoys their breakfasts. I’ll probably munch on a couple of hash browns and go through my Instagram feed whilst I wait.
My sister just happens to be going to Nottingham for the weekend with her boyfriend. I doubt I’ll see them though. We will probably go into the city centre after the festival. Nottingham is one of my favourite concrete places in the UK. If we are talking country then it’s a totally different list. I’ve been going there since I was young – shopping with my Nan or loitering with friends. I have good memories there. When I was 14 and went to see Cradle of Filth at Rock City, my friend, her friend and I went there to buy clothes because you couldn’t buy goth clothes in Grantham. We got a child return on the train for under £3. That was my first proper gig, not including pop bands from when I was >10.
At this point in time I am sat in the passenger seat of the car. Still feeling sick and achy. The window wipers are in use and we are about to drive off. There’s no point to this post for you. There’s no message that you are reading until the end for. It just is what it is.