Brean Beach December (C) Samantha Dee
Quitting the Rat Race

Retiring to Live by the Sea and Write Books – My Fake Journal – Episode 5

I woke up at five with my head full of words to write, so I went straight to the Chromebook to write them. Sometimes that happens, and the morning routine goes out of the window. I think it was about five hundred words that spilled out, so was quite happy once they were done.

Completing my routine in reverse, I put coffee on, do the bathroom thing, and change out of my pjs. Willow does her routine in reverse too, jumps out of the hammock, eats, pees and gets back on the bed. I turn off the coffee which was now boiling ‘angry’ and pour it into my carry mug. I gather up some laundry to do and pull out my backpack to stuff it in, adding a bottle of laundry detergent and a few coins in one of the side pockets and the coffee mug in another.

I’m itching to get to the sand today for some reason, it’s a really pretty morning and I already feel like I’ve achieved so much since five. I grab my stick from under the caravan and make my way down there.

On the bottom step I feel the need to stretch out a bit before I start my walk so I do that, waving at the beach wardens truck going by. There are six or seven gulls sitting on the sea wall rocks who just look at me, like a scene out of a Hitchcock movie. I start walking, the gulls scatter.

The joy of moving every day washes over me. Three years ago I was so unhealthy that every joint or moving part in my body ached, hurt even. These days its completely painless. We’re meant to move, I ponder to myself, even on my little legs. They’ve done me proud. In my twenties I’d walk everywhere given the opportunity. Girlfriends wanted to drive to the pub, I’d insist it’s only a ten minute walk and they’d look at me in horror. So I’d often walk it, they’d drive. I travelled to Chicago once with a friend and we’d walk the Lake boardwalk at a startling pace for a couple of miles at least – it was one of my favorite days. As I think about that, my pace increases a bit.

The launderette is behind the beach shop and I’m there in fifteen minutes at pace. I stride up the boat ramp, past the shop entrance and over to the launderette. I didn’t check the opening hours before I left so I’m glad they’re open. I find the first empty machine and unpack my laundry, drop in some detergent and set it to twenty degree ‘hand’ wash. After that I walk over to the cafΓ©, buy a croissant before making my way to the tables out front to watch the tide roll in and wait for the laundry.

About ten minutes in a great big English Bull Terrier gallops towards me and my aunty follows behind. Fender bats me with his happy tail and Aunty disappears into the shop. She comes out with a coffee and sits at the bench. Fender plops down on my feet and its like a medicine ball being dropped on my feet. He’s such a happy lump. I wonder who’s walked who.

About this Series

‘My Fake Journal’ is a self-visualization. It is my future life happening right now. These entries will form part of a book called ‘Quitting the Rat Race’.

Read from Episode 1

About Samantha Dee

Author, Writer, Editor, Coach, Mother of Cats.


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