by Úna Ní Nualláin
I wake up. I water my plants. I talk to my housemates. I set a timer to get my eggs the right amount of runny. I walk 10 minutes within my 5km to get a coffee. Oat mocha. The friends in my head I haven’t seen in months make fun of me for it. I work on an essay for one paragraph and watch Glee for an hour. I eat a sandwich too late for lunch and too early for dinner. I think about showering and don’t. I put my hair in plaits to hide the day’s old grease. There are 9 empty bags of crisps at the end of my bed, rolled in blankets and abandoned jumpers. My floor is piles of paper and rubbish bags and mismatched socks. I get back into bed before the sun even begins setting. No one has texted me. I stare at the ceiling popcorn and change my LED lights’ colours. No one has texted me. I ring my Mum and she tells me I don’t come home enough. I get stoned to skip dinner and watch half a movie on our old velvet couch. My housemates wake me up at 1am. I go to bed. I watch TikTok for 2 hours. I sleep. I wake up. I water my plants. I talk to my housemates. I set a timer to get my eggs the right amount of runny.
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I wake up. I check my laptop charged overnight. I take time putting on clothes I love my body in. I wear very little make up lately. I like the shape of my nose more. I eat eggs on toast and they are never the right amount of runny but I drown them in pepper anyways so who cares. The bus is nearly always full on the N11. I smile at the couples half-asleep on each other’s shoulders. I have 3 classes on a Monday and I love two, zone out for a third. I’m behind on lectures for it. I was meant to go home straight after but instead I get dragged to Clubhouse. I can’t ah you will I can’t ah you will I can’t- oh fine! I buy three drinks and rob a fourth. I spill beer down my sleeves and split my seams laughing. I stumble into town somehow and end up dancing. I am with people I love and the world is so slow in these spotlights. I have never even heard of time. We miss the last train and I pay a fortune for a taxi. I talk his ear off on the way home. I fall asleep calling the boy I like, the one whose bed I’ve been sleeping in recently. I won’t remember a word of it in the morning.
Úna Ní Nualláin is a theatremaker and writer from Dublin. Úna is editor-in-chief of the Martello Journal. Selected publications include Bullshit Lit, Semaphore and Ragaire Journal. She is a proud member of the Across the Narrow Sea Folklorists Group. She can be found saluting magpies and tricking editors into publishing her work.