I woke up ready to be late.

At 7:12 I woke with the specific conviction that somebody was waiting for a document. At 7:14 I remembered the document had been sent, the handover was done and I was on leave. At 7:16 I checked the clock again, in case the arrangement had changed.

I had planned the week in broad terms: a visit to my brother, a film with Talia, a few days at home. On the first morning I wanted to feel immediately pleased about all of it. Instead, I stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle with the posture of someone attending a very small briefing.

The work laptop was put away. The absence message was set, and the colleague covering the urgent work knew where everything was. I had done the practical part. My attention was still wandering towards the shelf.

I made one plan for the morning.

I decided to go to the bakery after breakfast. This was a modest proposal, weakened by the fact that I was already eating bread. I went anyway because they made a particular loaf I liked and the walk took me past a shop with second-hand records.

Before leaving, I began a list of things I could accomplish during the week. It grew quickly: cupboards, appointments, a repair, a proper investigation of why the printer only liked some paper. I stopped at the printer. It was the sort of task that could acquire its own holiday.

I left the list on the table. Anything time-sensitive could go in the calendar later. Nothing required me to begin with a cupboard.

I let the day take its time.

At the record shop, I found an album my brother used to play loudly while claiming to study. I sent him a photograph. He replied with the name of another one that was apparently worse. We arranged when I would visit, and he asked me to bring the bread if any survived.

Back home, I made lunch. I thought about work once while washing the knife, then remembered that the person covering it had the information. I did not need to prove that by checking the same message again.

In the afternoon I read on the sofa and fell asleep for a while. The cupboard remained closed. The printer maintained its private standards.

By evening I was enjoying the day, though I could not identify a moment when that had begun. Talia called about the film. I checked the time, found that I had not made any competing plans, and said the early showing would suit me.