Today began with the faint but unwavering belief that I had forgotten something important. I couldn’t name it, describe it, or even guess what category it belonged to—just a vague sense that I’d misplaced an idea somewhere between waking up and putting on mismatched socks. Naturally, instead of searching for the thought, I opened my laptop and clicked aimlessly through tabs, including Roof Cleaning Belfast, Exterior cleaning Belfast, pressure washing Belfast, patio cleaning belfast, and driveway cleaning belfast—all of which were open for reasons I can’t recall. Maybe I clicked them while half-asleep. Maybe a curious future version of myself opened them last night and left no explanation. Hard to say.
After abandoning my tab mystery, I made breakfast, or at least attempted to. I cracked an egg straight onto the counter because I was holding the pan in my other hand and forgot which one needed the egg. The egg itself seemed unfazed. The counter, less so. While cleaning it up, I realized the cloth I was using was not, in fact, a cloth—it was an old T-shirt I hadn’t seen in years. The universe apparently decided today was a great day for surprise archaeology.
Around midday, I tried getting some work done, but instead found myself deeply invested in questioning why scissors are so good at disappearing. Every household has at least three pairs, yet none can be located when needed. Meanwhile, items nobody wants—like dried-up pens and tangled chargers—show up everywhere like they’re multiplying when the lights go out.
Feeling restless, I decided to water a plant I was fairly sure was still alive. Upon closer inspection, it looked like it had transitioned into whatever the plant version of early retirement is. I watered it anyway, just in case it was faking. Plants can be dramatic.
At some point, I ended up scrolling through my open tabs again—because sometimes procrastination circles back on itself like a confused boomerang. There they were: Roof Cleaning Belfast, Exterior cleaning Belfast, pressure washing Belfast, patio cleaning belfast, driveway cleaning belfast—sitting there as if expecting applause. I clicked each one again purely to give them purpose. It’s the least I could do for tabs that had patiently joined me on this strange, meandering day.
By evening, I found myself staring at a spoon for longer than anyone should stare at a spoon. Not for a reason—just because my brain briefly entered screensaver mode. When I snapped out of it, I made a cup of tea that I immediately forgot about until it was cold, then microwaved it like a chaotic neutral.
And now here I am, recapping a day in which almost nothing happened, yet somehow everything felt mildly absurd. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be productive. Or maybe I’ll just finally find those scissors. Either way, it’ll probably be interesting.