A Day In The Life Of…Hedonist Six!

Happy Wednesday, folks! Today will be Writing Tip Wednesday, but first we have a fabulous ‘A Day In The Life Of…’ post from the fabulous Hedonist Six! Enjoy! 🙂

 

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF…HEDONIST SIX!

 

WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UUUUUUUUUPPPPPPP!

And so I do, almost. Clumsily feeling around the bed, underneath my pillow, accidentally elbowing the hubby while trying to locate my phone to turn off the infernal Crazy Frog Alarm still ringing in my ears. There are probably less annoying ringtones I could use to get me out of bed in the morning. None of the others are quite so effective in discouraging me from simply giving it five more minutes though.

 

It doesn’t take me long to get ready, because if it did, I’d miss out on even more glorious sleep. This might be weird for a writer, but I absolutely do not suffer from insomnia. Quite the opposite actually, I often find myself nodding off on the sofa in the evening. Getting the time for an afternoon nap at the weekends is my idea of heaven.

 

But it’s not weekend yet, and I’d better get moving. Phone, keys, obligatory return into the bedroom to kiss sleepy husband’s cheek and give him a little cuddle. He doesn’t let go of my arm and I’m stuck for a moment. I’m late, you idiot.

 

By the time I pull out of the drive and turn the radio on loud, I’m pretty much awake. I’m in the driving zone which lasts roughly an hour, after that I’ll be useless without my first dose of caffeine for the day. The new Arctic Monkeys song comes on, god I love it. I’m ready for today.

 

“Morning!” I say while dumping my stuff behind my desk and switching my PC on.

 

I’m two minutes early and yet the last one to reach. Tea is already in progress, needing rescue from overbrewing. Some people just don’t get tea, despite drinking it every damn day.

 

Back at my desk, steaming mug in hand, it’s time to catch up. While my emails load, I take a quick peek at Facebook, only to quickly minimise the browser window and shiftily look around towards the engineer who can see my screen from his desk. Did he see the naked guy in my newsfeed? Whew, he must’ve missed it or I’d most definitely get a remark about it by now.

 

My To-Do list is longer than I’m willing to acknowledge and still doesn’t quite cover it all. By 11, I’m alerted to a problem with an urgent shipment, courtesy of one of the huge international couriers, which takes up hours of the rest of my day. Meanwhile, the same engineer who has front row seats to my PC  gets up and stands beside me. Without giving it much of a second thought, I automatically extend my hand over the chocolate bar on my desk. He always goes for the food first.

 

This quick reaction seems to frustrate him, so he takes my phone away instead. I expect to retrieve that later with the screen unlock feature enabled, meaning I won’t be able to use it until he fixes it again. Still, I suppose it’s a step up from being restrained in my chair with packaging tape, because that has happened before.

 

“Can’t we send him away somewhere?” I ask.

 

The boss lady looks up momentarily from her laptop. “I’m working on it.”

 

Being an only child, I imagine this is the closest I’ll get to finding out what it’s like to have an irritating brother, even if he might like to think of our relationship in a slightly different light. (Guys, incessantly teasing a girl you like is not a viable flirting technique and will get you friend-zoned at best! Even if she’s not already married.)

 

Surprisingly he gives up on his phone snatching plan and instead starts to argue it’s my turn to make tea, leaves his cup on my desk and goes for a cigarette break. Oh well, I could use a moment away from being on hold with a call centre that can’t help me anyway.

 

Lunchtime provides a reasonable moment of peace to catch up with some friends online, and stare blankly at the WIP that has been bothering me for weeks now. I decide to procrastinate by reading a few blogs that will in no way help me finish my book.

 

At 2, the afternoon staff meeting requires our entire workforce to congregate in the meeting room; of a very crowded *cough* seven, two are away on business. Topics up for discussion are the fucking recession, various project updates and a few innuendos thrown in for good measure.

 

By 4 pm, the missing shipment has been located and I’m drained. My To-Do list is even longer than when I started this morning, but at least one matter has been resolved.

 

A few of us meet by the kettle to discuss upcoming weekend plans. The other (non-annoying) engineer is going camping. This amuses us greatly, considering his questionable choices for camping locations in the past; once in North London and another time next to Gatwick Airport. We never actually got to the bottom of how those crackpot plans came into being, but that might just diminish their entertainment value anyway.

 

The day has been long, but while the work is boring as usual, at least I can consider myself lucky to be surrounded by up to seven (usually fewer) people I don’t detest. I suppose it’s not surprising my longest story so far has been about an office romance. Don’t a lot of us spend an unnatural amount of time in environments such as these, if perhaps more stressful versions filled with politics and intrigue?

 

Out of nowhere an idea for my WIP starts to develop, allowing me sit down and bang out a few words until 5:45pm, while excitedly sharing this latest epiphany with a writer friend in chat. The boss probably wonders why I regularly stay a little late, sometimes smiling at my monitor, often peering into it with intense focus and forgetting the world around me. She doesn’t ask about it though, as if she knows it’s a necessity which cannot easily be explained.

 

When it’s finally time to go home, I put the stereo on, singing along loudly and out of tune as I leave the rows of terraced houses, shops and heavy traffic behind, getting ever closer to home.

 

“Hey, how was your day?” I ask, met by a shrug and unintelligible noise. Same old then, as was mine.

 

I decide to sit down for a bit, head resting against his shoulder, watching the rest of The Simpsons. I’ve no idea what to cook yet, but it’ll probably come to me when I head into the kitchen. Or not, in which case there’s always a plan b; take-out.

 

Tonight I have neither the will nor the opportunity write anymore though. Evenings are for us to spend as a couple and to unwind before following the exact same routine the next day.

 

Regular like clockwork, my eyelids start to feel weighted around 11, but I force myself to stay up for another half hour. It’s almost the weekend, and I can’t wait. There are a couple of muses in my head now, and their story deserves attention beyond what a fulltime job allows most of the week. Come Saturday though, I’m hopeful to get a few hours alone in the morning which will serve me just right.

 

 

H5

Call me “H.” or Hedonist if you prefer. I’m a Romance and Erotica author based in London and I’ve always been a dreamer. You’ll not find flowery language and poetry in my work. What you will find though is believable characters, none of whom perfect, going through life and trying to find happiness. Just like the rest of us.

Recurring themes you’ll find in my work:
Contrast; big / small (BHM/FFA), rich / poor, older / younger, experienced / not so much. Especially the first in the list; I like big men, as I know a lot of women do but may feel awkward admitting it. We’re not doing ourselves and the men we’re attracted to any favours by keeping quiet though!
Confident, self-assured women who aren’t afraid to follow their hearts.
Sorry, but I just don’t get BDSM, so I won’t be writing about it. I’m sure you’ll be able to find plenty of other authors happy to cater to your tastes.
Emotional conflict, insecurities and awkwardness; it excites me to throw my characters into uncomfortable situations and watch them come out stronger at the end of it!

Find more of Hedonist and her books here!

AND her amazing books themselves!
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