“Save this assignment for the evening–or write about yesterday. This is, basically, a journal entry but with a twist: make your day sound interesting. Write a page from your own autobiography, and make it worth reading. Don’t just list the events of the day; wrap a compelling narrative around the events of the day and tell us what were the most significant moments in it. Feel free to take some liberties in predicting the future. If it doesn’t work out the way you prophesy, you could always blame the butterfly effect: that somehow in writing about it, you caused it not to happen. Again, have some fun.”
[“Make it worth reading”. No pressure, thanks prompt.]
Sometimes I really love the way the day starts. There’s a sort of delicious comfort in knowing that you don’t have to do anything that day, but you could do anything. This kind of stuff is like crack to introverts; an entire day free of obligations with nothing but time to dedicate to the little outlets and projects that make us come alive. Oh, what a beautiful day. After getting a decent start to my day and haphazardly dressing myself in my favorite jeans and a nondescript gray tank, I gathered the vitals for my glorious day celebrating all things introvert. My mac, the charger, my hard drive, my journal, my phone charger, my flannel to protect myself from the totally freezing in Starbucks since it’s set at an arctic temperature constantly.
Spotify is such a gift. I cancelled my monthly gym membership and the extra cash I would have spent (all $10.99 of it) now goes towards Spotify Premium. I feel like a royal, getting to skip to whatever song I want, with no ads–step aside peasants, and acknowledge the luxury that your queen is so privileged to enjoy.
I know, I know, canceling a gym membership to listen to music sounds like the laziest thing ever, but I’ve already gone running at the park three times this week alone since I cancelled it, so really, I’m actually less lazy that I was when I did have a gym membership. (I think I’d been twice in three months?) Let’s see if that lasts, huh?
This Starbucks has become my new haunt, ever since they shut down the one closest to my house and simultaneously destroyed the vault of all my childhood memories. It was totally not dramatic at all, and I’ve clearly moved past it. So this one will have to do for now. God, it’s cold in this place. You can see the condensation on the windows from the two forces colliding: the Florida humidity and the Great Air Con on the inside. Someday I’ll live in a place that doesn’t have so much wretched moisture in the air, but until then I’m cursed to live inside of America’s armpit.
I’m thankful for the quiet of the corner, at least until it gets busy in the next hour or so. I’d prefer not to be at one of these high tables; I feel like a Hobbit in Bree, but there are worse things to feel like so I suppose I’ll take that in stride. I squint at the menu as if I’m actually going to be affected by what I read and get something different than one of my usual three to four drinks. Just in case anyone was wondering, it’s been over a year since I last had a Pumpkin Spice Latte. It’s a long road to recover from “basic white girldome” but I’m making an effort most valiant. I haven’t even worn yoga pants in public for months–are you not entertained? Better go order something while the cute barista is up front. (I said I was recovering from being basic, not that I wasn’t basic.)
It’s late and I hit over 500 words, so please enjoy this creation from my introvert day at Starbucks from the journey to Lake Placid I took with Johnny and Taylor last month (#blessed) (#stillbasic):