A Day in the Life of Aspirational Sarah

For decades I’ve competed with a fictionalized, unattainable, “aspirational” version of myself. She is far from a friend, but I can’t seem to get rid of her. She’s also, like, the worst. We lead parallel lives—one in the clouds, one on the ground.

Here is what a typical day looks like for the two of us.                           

5:30 am

Aspirational Sarah: What’s that, little bird? Time to wake up? Alarms are beneath me—I rise with the wood thrush. I make the bed, brush my teeth for a full two minutes, and use the same $98 cedar-scented placental facial cleanser Gwyneth Paltrow touts on goop. I am as pure and clean as a dewdrop.

Earthling Sarah: I fart loudly enough to wake myself up, then wonder why I’m awake.  

6:30 am

Aspirational Sarah: By now I’ve finished my yoga and meditation ritual. I brew a cup of adaptogenic mushroom tea (no coffee in this house!) and whip up a totally Instagrammable smoothie bowl. Wow, I am so grateful today. I make a color-coded gratitude list and then begin to work on my poetry anthology.

Earthling Sarah: I fall back asleep and grind my teeth so overzealously that I chip my mouth guard.

8 am

Aspirational Sarah: After submitting a few poems for publication, I get dressed. Today it’s a crisp, white Everlane button-up, black slacks, and smart shoes. I curl my hair and put on just enough makeup, then dab a little perfume in the hollow of my neck.

Earthling Sarah: My first alarm goes off. I blindly tap my phone screen until I accidentally hit the “emergency” button and call 911. I hear a voice on the other end say “Hello? Hello?” Hot, searing panic rages through my gut. I fumble for my phone and respond. “Heysorrythiswasanaccident!!!” I hang up and pant at the ceiling, waiting for sirens.

9 am

Aspirational Sarah: I answer all my emails in a tone that is friendly, yet assertive. For the next few hours, I’ll make enviable progress on my work to-do list, catch up with a friend or two, and drink three liters of alkaline water. 

Earthling Sarah: “No,” I proclaim to the Universe as my “You Must Seriously Get Up Now” alarm blares. I fall asleep for thirty minutes, then wake up with a start. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” I ask my cat, Monroe, who is still asleep.

I do not brush my teeth, but I do remember to apply deodorant. I grab a pair of sweatpants off the floor, sniff the crotch, and pull them on. Breakfast consists of a protein bar and cold, black coffee, both consumed over my keyboard. A tiny nut lodges itself between the “H” and “J” keys. I push it until it goes inside the keyboard and continue typing.

12 pm

Aspirational Sarah: Time for a run! I change into stylish workout gear and jog for an hour without stopping or even gagging. Since I’m ahead on work, I have time for a quick, revitalizing shower once I’m home. Lunch is ready in the fridge— “meal prep” is my middle name. Clean and clothed, I munch on raw kale and hop back online. 

Earthling Sarah: I fill a stale tortilla with whatever I can find in the fridge, then eat it over the sink.

2 pm 

Aspirational Sarah: Even though I use a standing desk, I still need to stretch! I roll out my yoga mat for a quick 20-minute session.

Earthling Sarah: Hnng hnng hnng. Hnng hnnggg—SPLAT. Monroe coughs up a hairball on my slippers with remarkable precision. I hold my breath and clean it up with a paper towel.

4 pm

Aspirational Sarah: I’ve finished my work for the day, so I can start on tomorrow’s to-do list. It’ll be so nice to wake up with a head start!

I’m also a little hungry, so I peek inside the fridge. Fresh berries, small-batch kimchi, boiled free-range eggs, homemade protein balls. What should I choose? Maybe another alkaline water with fresh cucumber!

Earthling Sarah: I take a sip of cold coffee, realize it’s too late in the day to drink coffee, and chug water to cancel it out. I have a headache because I drink too much coffee, so I take two naproxen.

Now I’m hungry. Like, homicidally hungry. I peek inside the fridge. What’s that smell? Old broccoli? I don’t even have broccoli. Let’s see, there’s an empty bottle of salad dressing, plain yogurt, soy sauce, and a bag of creepy wet spinach. I close the fridge, then open it five minutes later to see if anything delicious magically appeared.

6 pm

Aspirational Sarah: Dinner tonight is wild-caught salmon, roasted asparagus, and a single baby potato. I eat slowly and am satisfied. I clean the kitchen, then send a few thoughtful texts and emails to friends. I return a call I received earlier in the day and enjoy a lengthy, meaningful conversation.

Earthling Sarah: I “like” a TikTok video of a cat wearing pajamas. I “like” another TikTok video where someone 3D-prints a tiny man with a hole in his butt, then screws it onto a tube of toothpaste so the toothpaste coming out looks like poop.  

8 pm

Aspirational Sarah: Yawn! What a day. I complete a 20-minute bedtime yoga sequence, then meditate for another 20 minutes. Makeup comes off, followed by retinol cream, hyaluronic acid, eye cream, a lip mask, eyelash serum, and a healthy dose of kegels. I brush my teeth for a full two minutes and select the perfect outfit for tomorrow.

Earthling Sarah: Dinner tonight is green curry with tofu. I pay an extra $7.50 to have it delivered. The DoorDash driver, Steve, calls my cell while I’m waiting outside.

“Hey, I’m here,” says Steve.
“Okay. I’m standing outside.”
There is a pause. Steve is at the wrong building.
“I think I’m at the wrong building.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to sound friendly and relaxed. “I see you. I’ll wave.”
“Oh!” Steve exclaims. “That’s you? I thought you were, I don’t know…lost.”

10 pm

Aspirational Sarah: I’m asleep!

Earthling Sarah: I watch a livestream of a stranger shooting zombies in a video game. I feel antsy, so I go into the bathroom to scrutinize my face. So. Many. Pores. I squeeze as many of them as possible before succumbing to inevitable shame. Now that I’m feeling especially grimy, I take a quick shower. “Tits, pits, and bits” I sing aloud. “Tits, pits, and bits.”

12 am

Aspirational Sarah: Waves crash far below as I soar into pastel pink dreamland clouds. An angel is going down on me. She looks like Brené Brown but with better hair. We talk about vulnerability.

Earthling Sarah: I’m still watching a stranger shoot the arms, legs, and heads off of pixelated zombies. I should try to sleep, I think to myself as I turn up the volume.

1 am

Aspirational Sarah: Zzzzzzzzzzz. Oh, Brené. Zzzzzzzzzzz. Yes, I know I am enough. Truth and courage. Zzzzzzzzzzz. A little to the left. Zzzzzzzzzzz.

Earthling Sarah: After listening to a guided meditation for 50 minutes, I begin to fall asleep. Waves crash far below as I soar away from a fire-breathing dragon. “You missed class again!” he roars in Gilbert Gottfried’s voice. “Now you’ll never graduate!”

I make out two tiny specks in the distance—is that an angel going down on someone? —before dodging a blast of red-orange flame.