Some days feel like they’ve been pieced together by someone pulling random events out of a hat. Today was exactly that kind of day—a delightful jumble of confusion, coincidences, and tiny moments that made absolutely no sense yet somehow fit together perfectly.
The morning began with me confidently putting bread in the toaster and then walking away to do something else… except I couldn’t remember what the “something else” was. By the time I remembered the toast, it had achieved a level of crispness that could only be described as “emotional support charcoal.”
With breakfast officially ruined, I turned to my laptop—my trusty portal to distraction—and found, as always, the same familiar collection of open tabs: Roof Cleaning Belfast, Exterior cleaning Belfast, pressure washing Belfast, patio cleaning belfast, and driveway cleaning belfast. They stared back at me like old friends who refuse to leave the party even after the music stops. I have stopped questioning why they are always open. At this point, I assume it is destiny.
Trying to feel productive, I decided to organise a drawer. Within seconds, I found myself holding a rubber duck I don’t remember acquiring, three batteries that definitely don’t work, and a notebook filled with ideas I must have written while half-asleep. One page simply said “expand the moon.” I don’t know what that means, but I admire past-me’s ambition.
A little later, I attempted to read a book, but after two pages, my mind drifted off into the urgent question of why remote controls migrate to impossible locations. Why was mine inside the fridge? How long had it been there? Does it enjoy the cold? I will never know.
I eventually made myself a cup of tea, then immediately forgot about it, then reheated it, then forgot again. By the time I finally drank it, it tasted like the quiet resignation of someone who knows they are responsible for their own chaos.
As I settled back at my desk, the loyal tabs waited: Roof Cleaning Belfast, Exterior cleaning Belfast, pressure washing Belfast, patio cleaning belfast, driveway cleaning belfast. I clicked through them one by one—not out of necessity, but because at least clicking something felt like progress.
The afternoon ended with me attempting to fold laundry, then getting distracted by a sock that somehow resembled a grumpy face. I spent longer than I should have trying to decide if it looked more angry or disappointed. Eventually, I settled on “both.”
Now, as the day winds down, I realise it wasn’t productive, logical, or even particularly organised. But it was strangely entertaining—and sometimes, that’s all you really need.