Creative Writing,  My Writing


Today is just not my day.

I think I kind of knew that when I woke up after my solid 3 hours of sleep despite spending 10 hours lying in my bed. It was confirmed when my boiler decided to pack it in mid shower and sputtered out freezing cold water in the middle of rinsing shampoo out of my hair leaving my skin goosebump-y and feeling a little bit like a deep chill has set into my bones and it won’t shake itself off despite the fact that it’s one of the hottest days of the year.

It was then confirmed further when the lid to my iced coffee decided to not be secure enough and when I tipped it forward to take a sip almost the whole thing upended itself onto my outfit, which for some reason was comprised of light colours only. Why I felt compelled to do that when I was shivering my way through getting dressed I will never know.

By that point I kind of lost track of all the tiny things that made the day a little bit shit, but they all piled up. Gradually. It’s the little things. Always the little things.

Although being locked out of your apartment block for no apparent reason except the fact that your key has just decided to not work is maybe the straw that broke the camel’s back.

I’m just sat here on the steps outside of my own building waiting for the landlord to show up who is never really all that reliable to be honest. And the fact that on the same day I have had to call him about the boiler and my faulty key I am thinking that I’m going to have to get used to having cold showers because I’m pushing my luck in hoping both issues will get fixed quickly.

At least I have ice cream. That I was going to eat while I binged watched Real Housewives but the universe had other plans and so I’m eating it with a stray plastic spoon that I found in my bag and letting people freely judge me as they walk past and pretend they don’t notice the girl sat outside by herself eating ice cream.

My phone is on its last legs as well and so I will soon no longer have that to keep me occupied which will probably make it look even weirder to the people walking past.

And then he shows up. Out of nowhere. As I watch him get out of the yellow taxi I feel my face scrunch up as I try to remember whether in the depths of my shitty day I had forgotten that he was supposed to come over. He looks just as confused as he sees me sitting outside of my own building. But he doesn’t say anything.

In fact he doesn’t even bat an eyelid. He just sits down next to me on the stairs and takes the spoon out of my hands scooping ice cream onto it and letting me rest my head on his shoulder.

Today was not my day, but at least it wasn’t a total bust and I have a shoulder to lean on.


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