Day of the scatter-brained writer.

Hi, I am Graeme, and this is a day in the life of.

This piece is part of the “Day of the ___ Writer,” an open collab on the daily experiences behind our writing. Post on your publication about your day, and check out our growing mosaic of many lives.

‘Hi’, I say to the sun in the morning.

Ideally that is what happens, I live in the U.K. which is quite far north, and so in the winter the sun might not say hi back for an hour or two yet. The summer is a different ball game, the sun will be up hours before me and is like a jolly parent nudging and poking me to get up. Though, it is fair to say I bring this relationship upon myself through my unruly notion that it is good for me to sleep with no curtains or blinds over my window. I like to imagine that my circadian rhythm will be more stable if I let the sun do the talking. It’s been a norm in my life for so long now that I have nothing to compare it against, except perhaps the weekends I spend at my partners house. She has a better relationship with curtains, and I do notice I tend to oversleep there.

Waking up is a slow process for me. I am not one of those ‘get up like a spring daisy’ types. I like to roll around, hug my duvet, maybe read a bit, and gently rouse myself from my warm little bubble. If I have the time, one of the first pleasures of my day is a morning meditation. Usually about 20-30 minutes, self guided. It has had its ups and downs in terms of the consistency by which I keep this habit up, but by-and-large this has been a staple of my morning since I was a young teen, so getting on for over 20 years now. The value I get from it is immense, and yet hard to describe. I will start by simply saying that the contrast is apparent when I haven’t done this. I become stressed more easily, more reactionary, less focussed. Strangely it is more noticeable only when I have done the meditation, if I don’t do a morning practice, I rarely notice the effect until the next time meditation is brought back.

Following that, I will start getting ready for work, the usual tasks apply: scrubbing the teeth, choosing clothes (usually a colourful shirt), a quick wash and dry, tying my shoelaces, and then out the door we go. My route to work is both busy and bussy. (As in, I get a bus.) The traffic in my area of London in the morning is slow. I am fortunate enough to live in a nice area where people tend to have a bit of extra cash. But this also means people are very enamoured with their cars, and do not like to share their space with others. The roads are small, easily clogged, and with a population of 10 million or so people, this is a recipe for a traffic jam. I am often left wondering why no one has bothered to do some sort of car sharing app. Perhaps they did, but then discovered it was not something people much cared for. Still, I can’t help but wonder how much extra pollution that entitlement causes, and how much time is wasted with people jamming up the roads. There is a plus side though, this means my bus to work takes a while, and so I pass the time journaling and writing. If you see my notebooks, you can see the sections of my journey where the bus has come to a stop etched in the elongation of my letters as my hand slips up the page.

On the odd occasion I also like to take a leaf out of Winnie the Pooh’s book and do nothing. To glance out of the window, admire the sun on the river, watch people living their lives roll by. ‘Doing nothing is something worth doing.’

Work is here, but just before we get there, it’s time to pop into the local Waitrose and get something for breakfast. I always feel a bit fancy when I go in there. Waitrose is famed in the U.K. for being an aspirational supermarket. There are quotes from a blog called “Overheard in Waitrose” that include such sayings as:

• Waitrose have sold out of my favourite Duchy of Cornwall zesty lemon curd so don’t talk to me about your f*****ng problems.

• So I asked him outright - how am I supposed to get homemade hummus out of cashmere.

Luckily, if you are brave enough to explore this odd world of middle-upper class pretentions, you will find range of products that are genuinely tastier, and not actually that much more expensive. My usual would be something bready that I can jam in the toaster when I get to the office. And if I’m feeling extra hungry, some yoghurt, nuts and fruit to stir into a big old bowl of deliciousness.

Work is a small underground office in Fulham, underneath a wine shop that bears our companies name. I used to work in one of those shops myself, and had a great time doing so, but my creative background and general love for writing eventually got me a position in their marketing department instead. A normal day usually includes writing some form of email campaign about a wine or wine collection. Blog posts, social media content creation, scrolling through endless sheets of data, devising strategies, gamifying customer funnels, and generally being a big old wine geek. The upside of working for a wine company is of course the amount of wine we get to sample and study. There are tastings sometimes two or three times a week, and the range is truly excellent. In many ways I have been spoiled by what we import and sell. I worry that if I go back to a life where I have to buy wine at full price, having understood what quality wine is actually like, my life could become a fair bit more expensive.

I should mention at this point that I am not ending every work day tipsy. The other side effect of working in the wine trade is a relative ease towards spitting the wine back out once you have tasted it. I remember when I used to think this was diabolical behaviour. Why would you spit out such a luxury and tasty product that someone has spent a huge amount of energy, passion, and craft putting together.

Well, next time you go to a big wine trade event and see over 100 wines lined up to sample. See how far you make it without spitting. I have tried, and I can’t remember how I got home that night.

Work usually takes up the lions share of my day, as is the case for most people. Nine hours later I will stumble out of my cellar office and hope for a slither more daylight that I can enjoy. Just recently the time the sun sets has gone past 6pm, when I normally finish, and so now my dreams are realised. That said, where I work near Parsons Green is very pretty in all lights and all weathers. A mist can render the green with its old world lampposts to resemble a gothic book cover. In the summer sun people will picnic and sunbathe, meet their friends in the shade of a tree for a catch up. In the rain, the lamps and shop fronts cast an orange glow in the tarmac surfaces of the roads and walkways, shimmering light into my eyes causing me to feel I am walking through an impressionist masterpiece.

The bus back is usually much quicker. I tend to not do too much on this journey as I am usually head worn from the work day. Recently I have taken to playing some of the original game boy Pokémon games. I chose Bulbasaur, naturally.

Arriving home takes me down a very pretty road past a few victorian alms houses which were built to house people who had sacrificed for the armed forces. The houses are built right next to a commons, a piece of land in the U.K. that is designated for public use and for the benefit of all. Traditionally you could even graze cattle there, but of course not many Londoners these days have a spare cow. They are exceedingly pretty buildings, however, and they are a welcome sight each day. A reminder of the great architecture you can find in London, as well as a reminder that I am nearly home.

One of these houses in particular sits opposite a gorgeous old crab apple tree which they adorn with bird feeders of all shapes and sizes. The tree is always bending under the weight of all sorts of species, my personal fave being the Parakeets. They are not native Londoners traditionally, these are parrots that are said to have escaped in the 60s. Some rumours even going as far as saying it was Jimi Hendrix that set them free. Whoever brought them here, they are now fully adapted and are as much a part of the fabric of London as are its many other international residents.

Eventually my estate looms. An ex council estate with great big apartment blocks that were built in the 60’s. My shared house is on the fourth floor, which does give me some rather wonderful views. Sometimes I will throw my head into the residents community garden to see how my veg bed is doing. Currently it is home to beetroots, chard, broad beans, and leeks. I have to say, it looks rather verdant and alive.

Finally home. I kick off my shoes and tend to go up to my room to relax for a while before I do anything else. Depending on the day this can be anything from writing for my own projects and creating art, or it can be just turning off for a while, watching a show or if I’m really stressed out, taking a nap.

Eventually I am called to the kitchen. I share the house with three Italian chefs which means I tend to have the kitchen to myself because they cook and eat at work. The other upside to this is that they are often free to support me in my slow ascent up the Duolingo Italian ladder.

I follow a strictly vegan diet, which means my food is usually quite global in style. Though I have a proclivity towards Asian food and flavours, I suspect partly born of the time I lived in China. I do love to cook, and given the opportunity I will spend many hours in a kitchen making delicious meals. But in a standard weeknight, it is likely to be something much more simple, perhaps a rice dish or a ramen.

And then with the rest of the evening, I tend to devote it to things like my writing. Often I can knock out at least an hour of writing most days, energy depending. Other times, when the inspiration and energy is less available I will read, watch good movies and shows. (I have impeccable taste of course from my tenure as an animator.) I might even treat myself to some pc gaming, though as I get older that becomes more and more rare. Instead you will often find me game-planning my life. Whether that’s looking at my finances, plying around with new business ideas, coming up with new creative endeavours, or working on myself and my growth. These are all things I am deeply passionate about.

Bed is not strictly defined, sometimes I’ll be out like a light by 10pm, others, like an unfortunate night the other day when I stayed up till 3:30am writing, can be later. I used to resent bed greatly. I was a terrible insomniac as a teenager, often laying awake for hours and hours in the dark. It was actually the reason I started meditation in the first place. However, these days, I am a pro at sleeping. Not only can I put myself to sleep with almost zero effort, but I am a vivid dreamer with many fun recurring dreams. It has been a total 180 and I am much happier for it.

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This represents a roughly average weekday in my life. I hope you have enjoyed this odd little journey into my mind and life. Maybe some of it seems familiar to you too? If so leave a comment and tell me all about it.

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If you would like to try some of my other work, try out my short novella deciduous and evergreen. An eco-thriller and buddy movie style story of a group of children in Edinburgh, Scotland, trying to come to terms with a terrifying prophecy from the past.