Imagine a day of not giving a F***

If any of you read Man Repeller, you'll know they do a monthly Writers Club prompt, giving you a question or a scenario to write 500 words around. The winner gets published on the site (which would be my dream) but I thought why not share them here? I've just started doing it, so every month from now you'll see a post that might seem a tad random but hopefully interesting... So here we go.

I had two reactions when fantasizing over this scenario. One immediate and one a little delayed.

My first was of me wearing some sort of stretchy velour one piece and an extremely comfortable pair of shoes, careening down the street singing a selection of nineties hits. I already have the haircut I’ve been too scared to get for the last decade (hello chic, tousled bob) and am clutching a handful of Krispy Kremes, not caring that the icing is dribbling slowly down my velour-clad arms.

But then I sat back for a moment and thought, that isn't really the bravest thing I could do though, is it? That scenario is basically just me losing my mind slightly. The bravest thing I could actually do to give even less than zero fucks, would be to do the things I normally do but without those pesky filters of gender, manners, fear, expectations. In other words, all those filters we adopt for the benefit of others.

This starts with getting to work about 10.30am. I am not, never have been and never will be a morning person. And I’m constantly affronted by the way the world is geared towards those chirpy larks. I stay at work late so why can’t I come in late? 

Everyone ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ over those irritating people who get up before dawn to bake bread and weave their own artisan rugs in a damp field. Where are the congratulations for those of us who have learnt the art of the lie in? Surely we are the real winners here. Night owls, you hear me.

And then there’s my attitude as I go about my day. No more putting other people’s feelings before my own, giving the benefit of the doubt, understanding another point of view, being selfless. No. Thank. You.

I tell people straight what I want to say. No, I don’t need to be at that meeting. That deadline doesn’t give me enough time. I could have done that much better, why wasn’t that project given to me? Excuse me, you just shoved past me on the Underground and I’d like you to apologise.

I own who I am and what I’m good at. I grab what I want without fear of seeming aggressive and without worrying what people might think of me. In fact, that’s probably the single biggest thing here – without worrying what people think of me. Because that’s what not giving a fuck means, doesn't it? It’s not necessarily about living out our wildest fantasies. It’s about seeing our everyday lives through our own eyes, not other people’s. 

And in some small way I think I’ve just taken the first step towards that. The first time I wrote this, I wrote it all in the conditional tense – the faraway unreality of could, would and should. But just before hitting send I went back through and rewrote it in the present tense. Giving zero fucks that it definitely sounds much more aggressive than anything I’ve ever written. And that feels good.