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Days of Your(’s Truly)

 

Hello. 

A day in my life isn’t exactly Instagram-worthy. You know the ones—people with names like Mercedes or Thistle, waking up at sunrise to sip coffee blacker than ink, and stepping out the door in outfits that would make Julia Roberts blush.

My life? A little different. I usually wake up from a nonsensical dream (often involving me dating Joe Locke—if only!) to my dad coming in, cheerfully reminding me it’s morning. I have Cerebral Palsy, which means I can’t walk and tend to jump at small noises. Dad helps me get dressed, then gives me what I call “five minutes to get my head together.” This is my half-asleep way of saying: let me wonder, in peace, what it’d be like to become unwakeable—like in The Boy Who Fell Asleep, a short story I read where a boy slept for two decades before waking up again.

That story’s in Ten Sorry Tales by Mick Jackson. It’s on Amazon, by the way. I recommend it: Ten Sorry Tales on Amazon. Fun fact: my mum used to read me these stories when I was younger. Probably why I have a dark imagination.

After being hoisted into my chair, Dad helps me brush my teeth (toothpaste makes me gag—don’t even get me started on chewing gum). Then, it’s time for a drink—tea, orange juice, or hot water if I have a cold. I’ll nibble on some fruit or, occasionally, chocolate (because sometimes my tablets won't dissolve.)

The day unfolds: I use the loo, wait for transport, and head off to college. When I come back, I write. Writing is my constant. For others, it might be jogging or life-drawing classes (I always imagine some guy tagging along with a mate, shocked to discover the model is male). For me, it’s writing.

Then, more tea. I’m pretty sure I drink more than anyone at the Boston Tea Party ever did. I’ll stick something on the telly—The Simpsons, usually—or write some more. On Mondays at 8 p.m., it’s Only Connect on BBC Two. I adore Victoria Coren Mitchell—one of the few women I find attractive.

Speaking of which, I don’t really label my sexuality, but it definitely leans towards men.

Dinner comes next. Mum cooks—usually pasta, mince, or chicken. But beware of declaring you like something in my house. After COVID, I mentioned liking risotto, and for two weeks straight, it was risotto on toast, risotto sandwiches, risotto risotto. It’s not as bad now, but I think I’m doing what all mums do—bringing up old grievances like they happened yesterday.

Weekends are a bit different. I head to Waterstones. Honestly, I could live there. Books galore. I’m on nodding terms with the staff.

The first time I visited Waterstones? 2013 or 2014, back when P!nk was shifting from edgy to poppy. I miss the days when songs had a bit more edge—you know, with guitars and all that. Not even edgy, just...different. The first song I remember hearing as a kid was Shine by Take That.

That first Waterstones visit also marked the day I bought my first book: Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. This was back when the covers still looked nostalgic. It wasn’t worth much money (Google it if you have one lying about) but I still have that copy on my shelf. Fun fact: I now own five editions of it.

On the same day, I got Harry Potter LEGO for the PS3. I remember the hum of the console starting up, the strings in the PS3’s opening theme. Oh, and who remembers PlayStation Home? It was like The Sims, but not quite as good.

Anyway, I’m sure I’ve interrupted your day. Maybe you’re binge-reading these posts in the future. Either way, carry on with whatever you were doing.

Bye.

Comments

  1. Great read as always Dan! Looking forward to seeing more Blog posts.

    ReplyDelete

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