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A Day in the Life
Remembering the details of a single day.
Many years ago, I remember writing out the details of a single day. Somewhat for posterity, somewhat for myself so I could look back one day when I am older and have no young children and wonder how I survived. Every day, I write in my journal, but it is a brief, bullet-point list of the highlights.
Early yesterday morning, I decided to make mental notes of the day, for the purpose of sitting down and writing it all out later. I went back and looked at my own writing, and the last time I did this was on January 11th, 2010 — when my oldest son was only four months old. Once every 10-ish years is likely going to show me a drastic difference in how the days unfold.
Woke up, fell out of bed
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
-The Beatles, “A Day in the Life”
I woke up at 5:12 a.m. (according to my FitBit). I wake of my own accord, no alarm. Get dressed, dry shampoo, wash face, eye cream.
I go down to the kitchen and prepare my morning cup of coffee with heavy cream. I sit at the kitchen table with my journal and record the prior day, read a few pages of George Orwell’s Why I Write and read a few poems from Mary Oliver’s American Primitive.
