My Perfect Day
Randomly, I asked one of my fave humans what their perfect day looked like, and then asked my partner, and they both had vastly different responses.
My friend (he/him-40 or something idk) got carried away trying to text different things and switched his answer to just keywords. My husband replied, “work day or weekend day?” and c’mon man, who is thinking about work in relation to the words “perfect day”?!
I was texting my friend during respawn timers and queues for the next Overwatch game, because I had asked how their day went and wondered how it differed from his D R E A M day. After hearing both of their ideas, I was mildly disappointed. I don’t think either of them dream big enough or maybe just boiling it down to a short response is the product of keeping the convo, well, conversational.
So like a kid writing a word essay prompt back in ye olden days of the early 2000s, I decided to once more blow off the dust of my blog drafts.
(No promises this ever sees the light of day, but ya know, maybe post-mortem someone will stumble across this or a hacker will bypass my two factor authentication settings, and for some reason will be intrigued by years and years worth of half-assed writing.)
Actually, as I sit next to my sleeping baby and gaming husband, I don’t know where to start. My mind is racing with different ideas. The first weird one that popped into my head besides the obvious bit about magically coming into a lot of money while having a trusted financial advisor was really personal and now I’m stuck on it. What I’m about to share is actually really personal, yikes.
My dad would, in some fashion, tell me that he’s sorry for not always managing his anger in healthy ways and all the ways it affected my childhood, share with me what he struggles with and what he does to be better. Then maybe he would ask me about my day or any other questions where the convo becomes mostly about me for a bit. He’d actively listen to what I had to say, make comments and ask follow-up questions. He’d tell me about his day and we’d start discussing our next plan to see each other.
My mom finally stands up for herself in all facets of her life, feels confident that her children both love her and make space for her, and that both of her children are doing okay. Since the unspoken first answer to this is that I am endlessly wealthy, my perfect day would include telling her all of her debts are paid. I buy her a new house next to me, on a giant property that is all ours. I pay to have all of her stuff sorted, packed away, unpacked into the new house. A professional comes by to clean the house and do whatever work needs to be done to sell the house, and then sells it to a family (not a corporation). This giant land I own with multiple houses for certain friends and family, it is gated with private security, and it’s quiet, but not too far out of the way from being able to easily shop and go to concerts. I gift her tickets to see all of her favorite, living comedians.
Since my mom has been helping her sister and niece (my cousin) in various ways, I take care of all their debt too. I buy each of them their own house somewhere probably not too far from each other, and still somewhat near PA so they can easily visit the cemetery. I set up all the different things they might need like housekeeping, home nurse, personal chef, physical therapy. I pay for any medical bills they have, and buy them each a reliable vehicle.
In this scenario, I also have a team of assistants who actually makes sure all this gets done. I just fund it.
I pay off all the student loan debt and any medical bills of all my friends and family, and my own.
I’m woken up at 9 am feeling really refreshed as my husband hands me a latte made on our espresso machine. My baby Milo is still sleeping while I get ready for the day: putting on a cute outfit with all the details, doing a medium level amount of makeup that’s practical but whimsical, lotion, sunscreen, a touch of perfume. I eat a quick breakfast and then my husband Anthony hands me Milo, who I feed for a quick but efficient 10 minutes before playtime.
That quick breakfast, btw: one half of a side waffle from Chick-Fil-A, one piece of bacon, one sausage patty, a biscuit from Bojangles, a really tangy, pulp-free glass of orange juice, and a smoothie that is boosted with protein and all the vitamins my breakfast is lacking but tastes like berry. Throw in a low dose of thc/medium dose of CBD in, too.
When Milo falls asleep, potentially with the help of one of my full-time nannies or my mom, I go into my expansive back, private back yard, just past my full garden where I (an assistant mostly) grow all of our fruits, veggies, and flowers for bouquets that are around my huge, beautiful, clean, organized house. I lay out in a big hammock, soaking in the sun on a 70 degree day with a nice breeze, and take a quick nap.
When I wake up, I get into the part of my pool thats meant for lap swimming and swim a few laps before a personal massage therapist comes over. By then I should probably have a lunch and I’ve definitely been snacking on whatever I want throughout the day. Right now, it’d probably be a few dark chocolate peanut butter cups and a lemon poppyseed muffin (why are these becoming impossible to find?!) for the snacks.
For Lunch: Local Cantina tacos: one Nashville Hot Chicken with no slaw, one General Tso’s Cauliflower, one Hong Kong Phooey. One BBQ Chashu bun from Meshikou.
Before lunch, a team of people wash and blow dry my hair like I’m at the hair salon mixed with the spa, its a meditative like experience and my hair looks vibrant and amazing afterwards.
In this fantasy, all of my favorite friends live nearby and we get together as one big family for dinner which only happens once a week. Other times, I might eat with just my husband and my baby, or us 3 and a couple friends. We don’t always spend all of our time with everyone, they do their own things too but are never too far away. Dinner is a Michelin level, high tier/high class multi-course meal that is approachable and catered to each individual person. It’s like one big dinner party. At cocktail hour, there is a star musical act. People experience and appreciate the music, but it doesn’t overtake the evening. I somehow get to engage in conversation to some extent with everyone, give them all a hug and tell them I love them.
I’m getting a little bit tired as I type this, and there’s more I could add but to give this thing a beginning and an end to the day, let’s skip to the end. In my big bedroom, with a bed the size of two california king beds and all of the best pillows, I put on the coziest but cutest pajamas and do my skincare routine. Milo sleeps nearby me safely. My husband on his side of the bed. It’s 68 degrees with a Dyson air purifier keeping air moving. My room smells amazing because some candle was set up and blown out right before I went to bed.
