I Tried Romanticizing My Life and Ended Up Negotiating With My Ceiling Fan

The Morning That Was Supposed to Change Everything

I woke up at 9:37 a.m. to the sound of my alarm screaming like it was disappointed in me. I hit snooze so many times that I’m pretty sure my phone considered calling for help.

Still, I was committed.

Step one: ambiance.

I opened my curtains to let in natural light and immediately remembered why I keep them closed—my neighbors exist. I closed them halfway, which felt like a compromise between “soft aesthetic glow” and “mutual respect.”

Then I put on lo-fi music. Very calming. Very main character. Unfortunately, it made me feel like I was waiting for a dentist appointment, but we move.

Coffee, But Make It Character Development

Every romanticized morning starts with coffee. I don’t even like coffee that much, but apparently, vibes don’t care about preferences.

I used oat milk because the internet told me it’s what emotionally evolved people drink. I sprinkled cinnamon on top and whispered, “This is for my character development.”

The first sip tasted like betrayal.

But I drank it anyway, because growth is uncomfortable, and also because I already made it.

Dressed in an oversized sweater—because no one romanticizes life in fitted clothing—I sat by the window and stared into the distance.

I tried to think deep thoughts.

Nothing came.

My brain said, You should’ve bought groceries.

When Journaling Doesn’t Journal Back

Determined to continue, I decided to journal.

Journaling is supposed to heal you. Every influencer says so. They open their notebooks and suddenly understand their childhood, their purpose, and why they’re “at peace.”

I opened mine and wrote:

“I am grateful for—”

Then I stopped.

Grateful for what? Oxygen? Wi-Fi? The fact that my plants are still alive despite my best efforts?

I wrote:

“I am grateful for my bed.”

Honest. Powerful. Groundbreaking.

Manifestation Is Just Confident Delusion

Next, I tried manifesting.

Manifestation is basically delusion with confidence. You say what you want out loud and hope the universe isn’t too busy.

“I am attracting abundance,” I said, sitting in my apartment where one light bulb has been out since March.

The universe responded by sending me an email reminding me of a subscription I forgot to cancel.

Balance.

The To-Do List That Attacked Me Personally

At this point, I needed a “productive reset,” which is just a prettier way of saying I felt overwhelmed and wanted to feel superior to my past self.

I made a to-do list:

- Wake up early

- Be productive

- Fix my life

- Drink water

I immediately rewarded myself for writing the list by lying down.

Somewhere between scrolling and self-reflection, I fell into the dangerous part of the internet where everyone my age is either buying property or running six businesses while journaling in Bali.

I compared myself for exactly twelve seconds before my brain said, Absolutely not today.

A Hot Girl Walk, Minus the Hot Girl Energy

So I went for a walk. A hot girl walk. Even though I did not feel hot or girlbossy. I felt like a human loading screen.

Outside, the world did not care about my character arc.

A man walked past me yelling into his phone. A dog stared into my soul. A pigeon nearly took me out emotionally.

And yet… it was kind of nice.

No filters. No background music. Just me existing and not optimizing myself for once.

The Real Plot Twist

When I got home, I realized something important.

Maybe romanticizing life isn’t about perfection or aesthetics or pretending you don’t eat cereal for dinner. Maybe it’s about finding humor in the chaos. About letting yourself be the main character and the comic relief at the same time.

That night, I ate cereal. Dry. Over the sink.

I wore my oversized sweater. I turned off the ceiling fan before it could threaten me again. And I laughed—really laughed—at how ridiculous it all is.

Because maybe the real romance is surviving your own nonsense and still showing up tomorrow.

And honestly?

That feels like main character energy to me.