I wake up to a text from my friend on the west coast about last night’s episode of Girls. Whatever lights his brain on fire is the same kind of stuff that gets me worked up so I decide to stay in bed and stream the episode on my laptop. Then we trade paragraph long text messages about Lena Dunham and witch burning and sexual consent while I am getting ready.
I always sit at my monitor while I eat breakfast and work which is a little crazy because that’s the only time it gets used and that computer is expensive. I spend a minute wondering if I should rearrange my apartment so I want to sit at my desk more. I have a few conversations on Slack and another over text with a different friend who also wants to talk about Girls. We suspect the male writer villain in the episode is inspired by a mutual friend.
I get dressed in the same thing I always wear and do my makeup the same way I always do it. Black leggings, black tank top and a loose-fitting sweater. Tinted moisturizer, blush and mascara. I hate thinking about what I am going to wear so I always wear the same thing. I know some people love fashion and putting things together, but it’s a creative outlet for them — for me it’s something that stands in the way between me and my creative outlet. I want to get to the cafe, I want to be on the internet, I want google docs to be open, I want to write.
Think about it like this: when you are on vacation you are not worrying about what to wear. You put on your swimsuit and a summer dress and you think about the important things, like which pool you want to lay by that day. My goal in life is to live like I am on vacation, so I am going to worry about the everyday equivalent of this, which is which cafe I want to sit in and which music I want to listen to as I am working on whatever project I want to work on.
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