This project will be an exploration of my anxiety around fulfilling my own expectations of myself. Of actually fulfilling expectations and of letting myself down over avoiding the simplest of tasks.
I often find the smallest of tasks difficult, and put off all the things I’m capable of, or could be capable of. For no reason. For the reason of ‘I work hard at some things and those things are pretty good’ and I hate myself for not doing more. So I must teach myself to become more, to do more. But also teach myself that I still need to love myself, even when I’m not doing more.
This daily project is a note to myself, asking me to fulfill certain tasks the next day – shopping lists, reminders to eat breakfast, inspiration, mood goals. We will see how each day goes.
Tomorrow is 04.01.16
Go into town and use that day off. But not before sleeping as much as you want to, as much as you need to. Wake up to a hot green tea in your second favourite cup and drink it even if you’re not sure if you like the taste just yet. You know it makes you feel better. You know each time you drink it, you like the tang just a little bit more. Drink tea and read one of your new books. The pile of unread ones is stretching upwards, itching to be opened as your mind itches to fall into something deeper than the flickerings of newsfeeds and pop-ups of likes and speech bubbles. Climb into comfortable, colourful clothes. Forget about the black for a day. That’s work. And work is beautiful, but you time is, too.
Eat breakfast. A yogurt is fine.
Don’t hurry out of the door, take your time. Don’t forget anything. Remember your bicycle lights. Say goodbye to a clean, tidy apartment and hop into town. Walk around and take photos. Remember to take photos. Again, take some joy in taking photos. You just don’t take them anymore. Brave the shops and don’t worry about the fact you have no money again. Everybody’s poor in January. Buy;
Glue. Fix your favourite cup. It’s smashed to bits but it could be saved.
A 2016 calendar.
A recipe book. Empty. Look forward to filling the pages.
Fruit (strawberries, apples, oranges, bananas).
Veggies (carrots, broccoli, green beans).
Shop local. Try to.
Unlock your almost forgotten, broken-braked bicycle and cycle home. Don’t dread the hill. Stop part way. Stop part way twice if you need to. Drink water, shed a jacket. Get all the way up the hill and enjoy the fresh air.
Make a strawberry, ice-cream milkshake. You’re craving it. Make sweet bites. Create a wholesome, yummy dinner. Write down the recipe drafts, ready to be perfected and written down in your new recipe book. Don’t lose time. Spend time. Really spend time. Read, think, burn incense, eat, cook, bake, nap, walk, cycle, socialise. And please just write something.
Go to bed with a cup of tea, contentment for today, and excitement for tomorrow.
It’s past four and getting dark, a bath melt has left a silver shimmer on my skin and I can only smell lavender shower gel. The hum of the bathroom fan always makes me feel angry and I’m even putting off typing that I haven’t done anything yet. I slept. I woke before 12. I slept again. I’d said yesterday to sleep however much I needed. But I slept so much. I’m on my period and have pains and am beginning to conjure up an excuse to myself as to why I’m still here, in bed, in my towel. I haven’t even had my cup of tea yet. The kettle is boiling. The flat is messy but my feet are wrapped in fluffy fabric.
I did read some of my new book in the bath though.
And I sent an awkward message I’d been avoiding sending.
Is it too late to leave the house, do I even want to?
Past ten. I’ve managed to brush and braid my hair, have Ben cook for me, eat a ton of ice-cream, and watch a thousand episodes of Gotham even though I don’t even really enjoy it. I’m drinking wine for the buzz. But, I am feeling excited for work tomorrow.
I barely did anything. But this, this is good. Something.