We all believe in a great idea, that's why we keep a journal. We all like to tell stories and share our own, and just maybe someone might learn a little something from this one


It’s like Groundhog day, except the only thing repeating itself is the same pair of black slacks being draped across your skinny white legs.

And there I awoke, staring out through the morning light, the washing machine running violently next door and the air filled with a slight warmth but dominant cold, warranting yet another day in a pair of jeans. Standing before the wardrobe, gazing mindlessly at the shelve housing my trousers — three black jeans and one rebellious pair sporting a faded blue — I pondered; what would the day be like if I decided that for the first time in 2016, I will wear jeans with just a tad more life than my three black pairs? Harmless, I’d say. So I stood before the mirror, stubbornly wearing black shoes and black shirt, counter intuitively mocking my new trouser choice. ‘Eh,’ I thought, it’ll do.

The morning travelled by, filled contently with the sounds of keys being beaten and the muzzled noise of modern jazz playing in the background. I’d arrived early, bearing a surfboard, a wetsuit and an increasingly prevalent eagerness to get out the office at lunch. Midday arrived, we exited the office and picked lunch along the way. Above, the greyness of the clouds loomed whilst the air exuded a sticky warmness and a possible storm. The waves and the beach looked both as ordinary as each other, like it wasn’t worth delegating the afternoons workload to tomorrow so you can join the seagulls and swimmers in bathing in the oceans glory. And so, we walked back.

I sat back at the desk, gazing at a print out staring blankly back at me, reading ‘Adwords Fundamentals Study Guide.’ I gazed up and noticed the office was empty, leaving the room to be filled by any noise I chose to make. Instead, I figured it was an appropriate time to sit the exam. One-hundred questions and one-hundred and twenty minutes, all multiple choice . Soon enough, some forty minutes later, I received a notification saying you’d failed and missed the pass mark by an undisclosed amount in the interest of the student. Consequently, I returned to my emails and went about the afternoon like there never even was an exam. Outside, the clouds had cleared ever so slightly, creating a mild breeze that flowed through the singular office window open at the end of winter. The office had grown damp this day, I beckoned what fresh air may do to productivity, but became shortly interrupted by the notion that I wasn’t hungry and therefore a break was unwarranted.

5:30pm rolled around. By now, the desk had been cleaned and rearranged in such a manner that one could only hope would sanction prolificacy when greeted upon the following morning. Leaving the office, trudging up the steep hill, the sky shun brightly above as the sun began the set to the west. I crested the hill, found my keys and quickly came close enough to realise parking illegally really did have its repercussions. It felt fitting, like it complimented the day. And so it goes, snatching the receipt off the windshield, I hopped in the car and started the engine, and with a shake of the head, drove calmly through the streets on the way back home.

Suddenly, I thought to myself, what the day had been like after deciding that for the first time in 2016, I would wear my blue jeans.