The key makes a half-turn clockwise, opening the door, revealing a hallway I have walked hundreds of time. It is as it always is, except for those few occasions where a "/>
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Monday Monotony / Magic

theellyedit November 02, 2015
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The key makes a half-turn clockwise, opening the door, revealing a hallway I have walked hundreds of time. It is as it always is, except for those few occasions where a neighbor may also be coming or going. To the left are the mailboxes, sitting flush in the wall. A few more steps along and I am at the base of the stairwell, ready to make my ascent into the very well-known. And there it is – the resigned sigh, the expelling of breathe signifying the realization that occurs on an almost-daily basis: it’s always the same.

Same. Same. Same.

It’s the same door, the same hallway, the same stairwell. It’s the same motivation to leave, and the same reason for returning. It’s the same object in my hand, a skim cappuccino to go, made by a barista adept at both the art of making coffee and the art of being a hipster. Though today there is a small level of deviation – the coffee is sourced from a different location, achieved by taking a different route, a result of the much-lamented closure of my usual local – the process is still the same.

Same. Same. Same.

Wake up late, criticize self for not being able to get up earlier, spend 20 minutes scrolling through multiple information feeds on phone. Take an hour to internally debate whether it’s worth getting properly dressed to go outside for five minutes and see a handful or people, or to just throw on lounging clothes and risk one of those handful of people being a favorite fashion editor at a favorite publication.

Same. Same. Same.

A short walk outside, an initial flinch at the brightness of light, a glimpse in the reflection of a nearby shop window, making sure whatever is worn looks half-decent, which can be hard to glean when a full-length mirror is notably absent from the apartment. Enter coffee shop, place order and wait, look at phone for the 136th time that day, making sure nothing life-changing has happened in the past 82 seconds.

Same. Same. Same.

Thank barista, take the coffee, and walk home, pondering a mental to-do list. Berate self for putting off so much, and for not being so much further advanced in menial tasks and in life in general. Get key out of pocket and place it in the lock. Make a half-turn clockwise.

Same. Same. Same.

After climbing the stairs and taking an extra ten paces I come to our door. The door that reveals a home I so longed for, a little personal sanctuary, a cozy haven. Yet sometimes it feels like a prison, a place I can’t escape because there is nowhere else for me to go to, or belong, on a regular basis. It’s not the apartment that’s the problem, it’s the monotony. It’s facing up to the same thing, day in, day out, without anyone around you, no colleagues or no coworkers who could throw a spanner into the works of what could be expected for that day. It’s just me, myself and I, and as I prepare my standard weekday breakfast of muesli, berries and greek yoghurt at a time most people are enjoying their lunch, I again sigh with resignation, thinking over what I want to do next, without any clear motivation to do anything.

Same. Same. Same.

But then: a tiny flash, so small it almost disappears within the instant, but somehow I manage to just grasp the tail end of it and not let go. And as I look at my open inbox, with the same daily newsletters from multiple sources that I will no doubt delete without reading, I manage to delve into that tiny sliver of inspiration and expand on it, little by little.

Same. Same. Same.

I open a blank page. I ignore everything else – bar sipping my coffee – putting my blinders on. I place my phone across the room, and actively shut out the internal voices encouraging me to waste time by reading those emails, or my usual procrastinating favorite, making a digital wish-list of all the clothes and shoes I want to buy. I start to type. And type. And type.

Same. Same. Same.

But this time, it’s different. The words are different. The inspiration is different. The idea I am trying to convey is different. Same same, but different.

This time, the monotony works. The monotony is a good thing. It’s a blank canvas, a source of inspiration, the motivation I need to type, type, type away.

Same. Same. Same.

For whatever reason, monotony is what I need today. Today, the monotony has taken on a new form, a new life. Today, it’s what I need to create, to write, to tell a different story. Today, it’s the secret ingredient.

Today, the Same. Same. Same. is transformed.

Today, it’s Same. Same. Magic!

And it’s made for one hell of an interesting Monday.

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2 Comments

  1. James Warren November 11, 2015

    Love. This.

    So honest. Thank you for sharing.

    Reply
  2. theellyedit November 11, 2015

    Thank you! Sometimes you just never know what’s going to happen or when inspiration is going to strike!

    Reply

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