“A single day spent doing things which fail to nourish the soul is a day stolen, mutilated, and discarded in the gutter of destiny.” ― Michel Faber, The Crimson Petal and the White
Eyes wide open. Soft morning light contouring the walls. Colours shouting at my eyes. The harsh screen blaze of my phone showed a big strange 6:29. Sunday. WTF. The covers were getting a little too warm, the neighbour coughing in the hallway.
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I need to wash my face. I got up from the bed and in under 2 milliseconds I was in my bathroom brushing my teeth. I moved quickly so I could apply gentle cleansing milk on my face. I used to hate looking at my reflection in the mirror, but the new skin care routine is making me addicted, and it works best if I see what I’m doing. I washed the cleansing milk off with soft warm water and went on pouring two doses of mattifying hydrating lotion on a cotton pad, which I used to swipe my face clean. Subsequently I put five drops of smoothing serum on my skin, which I rubbed in tenderly with my fingers. My eyes got threated to a radiance serum.
I stepped out of the bathroom, opened the window. A quick look at my bed told me that there was no way I was going to fall asleep again, which brought me to the coffee machine. Expert hands prepared everything and pushed the button while I still was in a dreamlike state. There is no better sound than the huffing and puffing of the coffee machine on a Sunday morning.
I laid in bed and got up only to get a cup and choose a new book to read. I did not get far. My phone kept distracting me; vultures constantly texting me. I should go for a run. It was not too hot outside; it was early and suspiciously quiet, but I couldn’t leave my coffee like that. As I was finishing my third cup, A big fat 9 was showing on my phone screen. Too late to run, too many people outside at this time of the day. This was the beginning of an inner monologue between me myself and I, discussing whether we should go for a run (by the way we had a fight and two of them are currently not talking to each other). Long story short I got hungry and since my milk has gone bad again, I opted to cook pasta. So, I had lunch at 9:30 a.m. and afterwards I went back to sleep.
Aromatic deception 