It's not all Tim Tams and Tea
by N.D. Campbell
Written on Tuesday, 1st June, 2018
Day one… Un-Adulting.
The Bruce went to work at rude o'clock. I rolled over and hugged my pillow.
This was going to be the *BEST* *DAY* *EVER*!
I had nothing to do. No plans. No expectations and NO WORK!
First order of the day. Sleep in.
I rolled over again and rearranged the pillow.
Annoying amounts of light peeked past the curtains so I squeezed my eyes shut.
A bus rolled down the street and screeched to a halt outside our second story flat. Someone yelled. A car sounded its horn.
Was the world this loud every morning?
I pulled The Bruce's pillow over my head and revelled in the glorious quiet.
Then my face got warm. The air I was breathing, no, re-breathing was getting hot.
Didn't they kill people with pillows in the movies?
I pushed the pillow off and cringed at the auditory assault that was morning.
After a while, I got up.
I took as long as I wanted in the shower, which was pretty much the same as I usually took.
I thought about making a hot breakfast, but the fridge had other ideas.
Maybe I could go out for breakfast. Alone. In a city full of people racing to work.
I made my usual, cereal and tea and ate it on the balcony watching workers scurry back and forth like upright ants.
The warm glow of superiority spread through me. I didn't have anywhere to scurry to. No more adulting for me!
I washed my bowl and cup and turned on the computer.
Did it always take this long to boot up?
My foot tapped under the table until it annoyed me. Then my fingers started tapping on the top.
Oh, come on…
The screen sprang to life and I opened my email.
Adverts. A couple of newsletters that looked interesting when I signed up. I hadn't got around to unsubscribing yet. I could do that now.
The mouse hovered over the first email. It wouldn't take long. I scrolled the little wheel on my mouse and the list flicked by. It would take long.
I closed email. I thought about Facebook and slapped myself metaphorically. Talk about a time suck!
Okay. It was time to get serious.
I opened a word document and selected a new blank document.
A white page took up almost the whole screen. In the top left corner, a little black line blinked at me.
I see you, it said as it winked on and off.
My fingers hovered above the keyboard.
Think you're a writer, do you?
My foot was tapping under the table again.
Think you've got something to say? Well? Do you?
I let my fingers rest on the edge of the table.
I had lots of ideas! Stories floated in and out of my head all day at work. So, where the hell were they now? Now I had the time. And the table all neatly arranged.
My eyes flicked to the television.
No. That was one rule I'd made. No TV during the day.
I looked back at the screen and the little blinking line.
"And you can shut up, for a start!"
I pushed the chair back from the desk and went to the kitchen to make another cup of tea. This time I grabbed a Tim Tam too.
Back at the chair and the little line was still blinking. Still baiting me. Still daring me to take the plunge.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard again and I closed my eyes for a moment.
Before I knew what was happening, they were moving, clicking over the keys.
"What the hell am I doing?" Felicity snapped, jerking the steering wheel so the car slid sideways before she slammed her foot on the accelerator as she had a hundred times before. The car rattled across the stock grid and a red cloud rose in the rear vision mirror veiling the world she was leaving. Her stomach clenched in protest.
Past the dry dam, breathe. Around the rusty shearing shed, breathe. Down the dusty drive to pull up beside the scrawny lemon tree, breathe.
"Four days, just four days," she said as she climbed out of the climate-controlled car.
There I was, with words on the page, just like a real writer. And just like Felicity, I had no idea what the hell I was doing, or what was going to happen next.