My day off.

I love Tuesdays.

It is my day off, and I don't have to wake up to shrill alarm ringing.

I get to laze in my bed, snuggled under my fluffy flower-print comforter, and I will only wake when I am absolutely willing to.

I will hide under my covers, embraced in the darkness set by my tightly drawn curtains, sheltered in my personal cocoon, as I listen to the buzz of the people who have begun their day already, the monotonous whirring of the vacuum cleaner by the cleaner lady, the twirping of the loud Melbourne birds.

No worries of being late for classes, lectures or tutorials, no rushing of unfinished work.


After I've dragged myself out of bed, my day is usually started with a walk to the campus to buy my first meal of the day. Yeah, by the time I wake up, it's usually noon. People always cast me looks of shock and disbelief when they know that I deliberately walked 20 minutes to uni just get a box of take-out.

But I like it. The walk isn't so terrible. I like walking past the peaceful lake, the fat ducks, the dotted flowers brought out by spring. If it's a warm day, I get to enjoy the sun beating down on me, and my bare legs if I am wearing a skirt/shorts. If the day is cool or even cold, the gentle breeze, or even the billowing winds, they refresh me. I jogged my senses.

Following that, the day is usually spent in front of my laptop, catching up on a few episodes of downloaded TV series (Sex and the City, Season 5 now), lazy chatter with friends or acquantainces online, casual browsing of the cyberworld. I don't have to talk to anyone if I don't feel like it, and everything is carried according to my own pace. Confined in my personal space, for that half a day, I am a happy recluse.


I love me time.