The title sounds so good it could be a story. I may save the title for a nonfiction essay.
It’s Day Four and today I’ll blog on what a day is like for me.
First, of course, is the morning. I take my time. Grab my cellphone and urge my tingly fingers to check alerts. They believe they’re productive to career and finances. They tap away only to summon Facebook. I watch for laughs, controversy, and remain hopeful that some pretty lady has sent me a DM full of emojis.
I skim through smut, flash fiction, and video game news on the mobile browser for at least ten minutes.
Then it’s time for landscaping, the first job of the day. I put on an old, discolored shirt and a pair of blue jeans that’s too tight. A rip is forming, but I probably won’t buy new jeans until someone else notices the gaping hole. Can’t forget the imploding boots that I wear.
Off to work.
I use my years of landscaping experience to display mastery of lawn, shrubs, and small combustion engines. I take precaution. I stay away from poison ivy the best way I can. There’s much to do, but my time is limited.
One o’clock, the hour I prepare for camera operating for a broadcast news station. I shed the grime and grass in a warm shower. I dress comfortably, usually a polo shirt and dark denim jeans. I persist for a nice meal. Never know when breaking news will keep me all night.
In the event that it doesn’t, I proceed to:
- Work on a short story, novel chapter, video, etc.
- Go home to have another meal and live stream on Twitch.
As the late night approaches, I return back to the news station for an hour and a half. I contemplate whether or not to eat again when the shift ends.
By the time I get home. I’ll game or watch an episode or two of a random Netflix show.
Sleep is inevitable. I flip open my laptop and listen to some music until my eyes get heavy.