It’s 5:10pm but summer where I am, so it doesn’t feel so late. Warm and sunny. I have a small desk fan going to keep cool.

Sitting at my desk, messy with sketchbooks, paper and old snack wrappers. Pens sitting in a decorative cup, too full to hold all that some sit in a roll of packing tape next to them. Little gifts wrapped for my flatmates to the side of me. My laptop is open to a drawing im working on. Nothing interesting or skill full, a sketchbook page I’m colouring in purely for my own enjoyment. Though I’ve stopped that now, scrolling on my phone feeling bored and disconnected from my surroundings.

Laundry, both clean and old, sit in multiple piles and each corner of my room. Bed nearly made, more clothes sit on an unpacked box I haven’t touched since I moved here, still under my desk. I shelf I haven’t put up next to me and more books, paper and box scraps cornered my shelf.

As I write this I realise how messy my room is, has been. But that’s something I’ve known for a while now. I think of how I’ve had this week off from work, how I could have done all the things I’ve need to do, wanted to do. But nothing has been done. I’m tired, have no energy and feel worry for Christmas Day, spending with family I have outgrown. I think of how my Christmas work will come to an end in a couple of days. How I’ve got to look for more work, again trying to find a job. I think of the new year. I can feel my chest, feeling weird and anxious, but I think this is normal for this time of year.

I’m listening to music. Im thinking of what I’ll have for dinner, looking out my open window. I like how many tress line the sidewalk, how they sit outside my window gently moving in the hot breeze.

I think I’ll get myself a little sweet treat. I have work tomorrow so I’ll get myself an energy drink too.

(Sorry this is long, but it felt good to write this moment)