Today was a lovely day. T-shirt weather. I went for a nice long walk through the park and around the neighbourhood, did some grocery shopping. I amuse myself at how coming back to the apartment so often goes the same way. Just a cloudy mess of hurried half-concentration. And for no real reason. My headphones will still be on which always feels a bit weird indoors. Put my rucksack on the counter, open rucksack, think that I should switch on my laptop so it’ll be ready to check emails when I’m done. Back to the kitchen, fill kettle. Back to the office, empty wallet, keys, coins into dish. Forgot to put kettle on its podium, so do that and switch it on. Take groceries out of the rucksack, stomach growling because I’ve not eaten all day. Put stuff for fridge on one side of the rucksack, stuff for the shelf on the other side. Pop open the Pringles to see me through those few short minutes before I make a sandwich. Take iPod out of my pocket, hit the back button so I can listen to “Sara” again. Put a tea bag in a mug. No clean teaspoons. Push plug into the hole, squirt of washing-up liquid, hot tap on. Back to office, open email program. Watch a few names appear with blue dots next to them. Back to kitchen, turn off tap. Back to office, turn on camera, plug in cable, put the USB end into the slot in laptop, click click, download photos. Back to kitchen, put hand in the too-hot water, fuck shit, pull out a spoon, give it a quick clean with my fingers, rinse. Pour water in mug, impatiently splosh the tea bag around. Put stuff on shelf, put stuff in fridge. Remove old spring onion from fridge and put it in the- put in on the side, cos there’s no bin bag. Get a new bin bag (from a fresh roll; I like how the first item you put in the first bag from a new roll is the wrapper that was around the roll), shake it shake it shake it open, take it into to office, empty the waste paper basket. Back to kitchen, put that lonely limp spring onion in the bag. Make a sandwich: turkey slices, cottage cheese, cherry tomatoes, and mustard. Wash a plate. Dry plate. Put sandwich on plate. Teaspoon squeezes the tea bag against the inside of the mug and drip it over to the bin. Milk out of the fridge, splash, milk back in the fridge. Sandwich and tea in hand, back to the office. Sit down, take off headphones. Take iPod out of pocket. Put the iPod and headphones on the desk. Open first email, grab sandwich, take a bite. Realise I’ve flustered the enjoyment out of my life for the last ten minutes. Pause. Just for a few moments to let some relaxation sink in a bit. NYTimes.com, read about the Yankees, enjoy my sandwich, tea, and a cigarette. It’ll be the same again one day next week. And the week after that. And the week after that. Breathe, Craig, it was a lovely day.