At the kitchen table

It is one of these days again. I wake up quite early, eat my porridge in my bed and watch an episode of Pretty Little Liars. Light entertainment so I won't have to use my brain. The most exciting thing this morning are the blueberries in my porridge. They are so big that I'm pretty sure by now that Waitrose had them genetically modified. The sky is grey this morning and there is no sign of a change in weather.

But despite the clouds my mood goes up. I dance to techno-jazz music, my newest discovery on Spotify and at some point I walk over to the Fork Deli to bake some cookies. It is warm in the coffee shop, some customers sip their drinks from the thick, white cups. The air smells like melted cheese and sugar from the fresh pastries. Jess is working on her laptop at one of the tables in the back, James is standing behind the coffee machine and makes foam patterns into a latte glas.

After a short shopping trip I take the stairs down to the kitchen and turn on my speaker. Dancing in the kitchen, mixing my ingredients and tasting some batter, I don't think about anything else besides my baking mission. After 30 minutes, the kitchen smells like chocolate brownies with a soft espresso note. 60 minutes later, the sugary and intense smell of cookies adds to the brownies. But still, I feel like I have nothing yet accomplished this day. After I bring up a huge plate with baked goods and say goodbye to Jess and James, I walk home.

The drizzle stopped by then, but the air is still heavy from the rain. The temperature is a mixture of "I need a jumper" and "I should put on a Tshirt". I haven't seen my girls in forever, either someone was there to visit me or the others were out. We kept missing each other. Also, the exams started, so everyone is stressing and revising. And no, they are not listening to my great advice "minimum effort, maximum outcome". Even though that attitude brought me through nearly three years of studying.

As I open the door to the townhouse with my keycard, I can already the familiar voices. Kesha and Laurie are sitting in front of their laptops and search for flats, Maeve is standing next to the microwave and heats up some leftover pasta. This time, it truly is coming home.

Three minutes later, I joined the others at the kitchen table, answer emails and try to read a paper for my class. But sadly the paper is so boring and seems more than unnecessary that I start looking up nice cafés in London. Who needs to focus on a text if one can drink coffee?

My speaker lies in the middle of the table, Maeve starts a group session on Spotify and every now and then you hear Kesha humming along. Zoya comes in, her laptop in her hands. It is such a relaxed and natural atmosphere that I can barely find words to describe it. Just sitting together with the girls, smiling, when one of our songs is playing, complaining, when we would get distracted by Pinterest and Instagram. This is exactly one of these days, one of these afternoons you nearly forget because they seem so normal.

I know that we won't leave the kitchen until night. As soon as the boys come home we usually sit together till 3am. But right now, I just enjoy this kind of spending time together. Especially because we haven't done it in so long.

We won't talk about out last weeks in London. We won't talk about everyone going home over the summer. We won't talk about that I will not return to London in autumn. We talk a about day trips and spas, club nights and how much we are looking forward to out Cornwall holiday. We talk about Justin Bieber's dreads and how expensive living in London is and if we would do the walk to Lidl. And maybe, just maybe, this is the best way. Just living one of these days at the kitchen table.