What would my perfect day look like? I don’t know I’ve never really thought about it, but since you ask, it would probably go something like…
It begins with waking naturally – not from the jarring screech of an alarm clock, not from a partner or pet who can’t contain themselves, nor even from the hot light from the sun lancing directly into your eyes. No, just a good, mellow, gentle and eventual come-to-consciousness. You have rested, you feel good – not still grainy from the sleep cycle being interrupted at the wrong point, not dusty from whatever shenanigans you have been up to the day before. Just rested wakefulness coming in waves. There is at least one cat sleeping on or next to you. It’s just a tiny bit cold, and you spend a little time acclimating to the waiting world in the warm cocoon of your doona. Your bladder maybe gives you a gentle nudge to get moving but it isn’t screaming at you for the love of all that is holy, get up! Get up NOW and go to the bathroom! When you feel like its time to start the day, you rise. Let’s call it… oh, 9:30, 10 o’clock?
Having performed the morning ablutions, you move to the couch. At least one cat follows you and curls up in your lap, purring contentedly. Espresso, icy cold soda water and roasted rice green tea appear as if by magic. There is a little something left over from last night – some part of your meal that would just fit the bill wonderfully for a light breakfast. A slice or two of leftover pizza, perhaps. Music starts. You read, you sip your hotted beverages. Time passes slowly until the cat, hearing some phantom threat, jumps down and races off like a crackhead and you realise you needed to go to the bathroom so the timing couldn’t be better.
It’s time to leave the house. It’s about 27 degrees – t-shirt weather. Beautifully warm in the sun, cool in the shade and the whole thing regulated by a gentle breeze. You don your sunglasses and go for a walk or jump on your bike – whatever tickles your fancy that day. You pass through nature, trees breaking the sunshine up into dancing shadows on the ground as the leaves play in that occasional zephyr. You see lots of dogs, many of whom want to come up and meet you, while their owners merely smile and nod and stay where they were under a tree. They don’t try to force an awkward conversation when all you want to do is befriend an ugly little goblin dog or a boofy old German Shepherd.
You pass through nature into civilization. There are shops offering random shit that interests you for a moment, but not enough that you feel the need to buy anything. You pass them by until you get to the pool. Did you bring your bathers? You sure did! And what a lovely day for a swim! The water is crystal clear, not too punchy with its chlorine. There are, at most, three or four other people in the pool. You have a lane to yourself, shady daps over the water so you don’t need sunscreen. The water is deliciously cool, and the air pleasingly warm.
You emerge, paradoxically tired yet invigorated. There is no old man with an impossibly low-hanging scrotum towelling off vigorously like it’s an exhibition sport in the change room. You emerge to a street that’s eerily quiet, like some peaceful apocalypse carried off all the people and you can marvel at the industry of a species that created all this. As you turn the corner, the people reintroduce themselves in dribs and drabs – not enough to crowd the footpaths, but just enough to show that you aren’t alone in the world.
Hunger asserts itself, a rumbling in the belly makes you realise that you are actually ravenous. You head to your favourite café – maybe it’s that classic café, or the bagel joint, or the little Japanese place, or the fancy coffee roastery with the wild brunch menu in the old warehouse with the designer industrial refit. You sit outside at a little table half shaded by some beautifully fragrant, colourful greenery. You read the paper while you sip on an excellent coffee. Your food arrives as you get to the puzzle page. Between mouthfuls and munchings you fill out first the cryptic, then the quick, then the nine-letter word. You sketch in the answers to the other puzzles as you chew on the particularly tough clues.
They clear your plates, the food was delicious, and you were contemplating ordering another drink when you get a text from your coffee buddy – “hey, I’m in your area, wanna meet up?” Of course you do! You pay, and leave, hopping on your bike or back on the hoof to meet up with them at your usual spot. They’re in a great mood, they have news, you celebrate. A coffee quickly evaporates and is swiftly replaced with a glass of sparkling, conversation flows. Perhaps a slice of cake, or a plate of oysters, a bowl of fries. The clock ticks, you realise my goodness, is that the time? You embrace, and part ways in the best of spirits and head off in your respective directions.
By now its… let’s say around three o’clock? You have some leeway. The house is clean enough, your chores aren’t that pressing, they can wait another day. You have some time to work on your projects – you sit in front of the computer and write something, or head outside with some tools and make some decent headway into whatever it is you’re currently building. A few hours of making and doing, ever accompanied by your favourite bands or the podcast backlog you’ve been meaning to get through, and you finish something to your satisfaction.
By now its early evening, the weather is still beautiful and nothing presses urgently on your anxious sense that I’m supposed to be somewhere! I’m supposed to be doing something! You crack a beer and enjoy that late afternoon/early evening sunshine, the rays slanting directly into your face from out of the west. At least one cat joins you while you sip on that beer, perishingly cold, crisp and delicious.
You receive a message. There is a dinner afoot, or a party, or a bit of an impromptu pub session, and would you like to come? Yes. Yes you would. You shower, long and hot, rinsing away the chlorine of earlier and the sawdust of later, and emerge feeling like a new person. Maybe you had a shower beer? Deliciously cold as it runs down your gullet even as the hot water cascades over your head. You make your way to the venue. Your people are there. Your beloved is there. Debbie Downer couldn’t make it – oh no! – but everyone else is. Frosty pints appear as if by magic, food follows, and conversation flows. Music is on the air, as is the scent of night-blooming flowers, the warmth lingers until well into the darkness, and you make your way home with your beloved to do all of those things that lovers do.
Well, probably something like that, anyway. How about you?
Exit Pursued by a Beer 
❤
LikeLike