It’s Monday morning I wake at 4.52am. I make the cardinal error of checking my iPhone – a habit. I check match.com then I check POF followed by Guardian Soulmates. I put the phone down in the dark. I get up to pee, go back to bed. I lie awake for a bit until something mildly stress inducing crosses my mind. I hastily grab my phone and check Facebook. The mildly stressful thought disappears. I lie awake.
The alarm goes of at 6.42am, also on my iPhone. I get out of bed, it’s fairly mild because the central heating has been on since 6.28am and the temperature outside is about 10 degrees C. I pee, sitting down. I have a Prince Albert it saves making a mess on the floor. I grab my dressing gown out of my bedroom and wake up my son. He stays in bed. I go downstairs into the kitchen, put water into the kettle and switch it on. I pour 2 glasses of orange juice and take my son’s into the lounge with a multi-vitamin pill and an Omega 3 enriched capsule. I leave them on the coffee table. The kettle has boiled, I pour boiling water onto my tea-bag inside my mug. I drink my orange juice and make him a bowl of coco-pops. They go into the lounge too and on my way back into the kitchen I give him a shout; he won’t get up yet.
BBC6 Music is on the radio and a DJ who’s name I can’t remember hands over at 7am to Sean Keaveney. The Smiths are on. I extract my tea-bag, throw it into the recycling bin outside, pour milk into the tea just in time for the toaster to pop. I put the crumpets back in for an extra minute and grab some spread and marmite. Up pop the crumpets for a second time I spread spread and marmite on them, sit down at the breakfast bar and eat while simultaneously checking all the sites I checked overnight on my iPhone.
I put the dishes into the dishwasher and make my son’s lunch – a chicken sandwich, a small chocolate bar, an apple and a small carton of orange juice. His lunch goes into his lunchbox the lunchbox goes into the fridge. I drink my tea. I make my lunch; humus sandwich with tomato and celery today. It goes into the fridge also, I finish my cup of tea and put the empty mug in the dishwasher. I go upstairs, turn my son’s light on and suggest he gets up.
I brush my teeth in my underpants and socks, remove them, turn on the shower and after the water has warmed, I shower myself, all over, after removing the socks and underpants first and place them in the dirty washing basket. After drying myself I put on a fresh pair of socks and underpants and dry shave my face. I tip the residue beard from the electric razor out of the window and disturb the starling nesting in my eaves. I moisturise with Nivea cream. My son is downstairs, I turn his bedroom light off and go into my bedroom. He comes upstairs and goes into the bathroom. I dress. Trousers, shirt, tie. I decide to fasten my top button. I don’t usually do that but it’s a new habit; it reminds me of Escape To Alcatraz. Looks smarter with a tie. I don’t wear a suit or jacket, just a navy blue pullover. On go the shoes.
Put on my watch and ID badge, go downstairs. Put my lunch into my bag and put the bag into the boot of my car. Make sure the dishwasher is full and put it on, timed to start in 3 hours, for no particular reason. My son needs £7.00 for a bus pass, I don’t have it, I’ll pay him back. I check the back door is locked and I check upstairs the windows are closed and lights are off. I put my iPad on charge, grab my wallet, put my coat on and put my phone in my pocket. I find my keys. I exchange banter with my son and fetch him the back door key. We exit the house together. I unlock the car, he gets inside, I lock the front door and get in the car. It’s windy.
I drop him off at the bus stop, we kiss. A school girl arrives full of smiles in his direction. I smile and drive to work. I arrive at work at 7.55am.
Bill On The Fylde 