The alarm on my ipod would go off, just after 9:00, cause hey I didn’t get to being an astronaut by sleeping all day. Most likely it would play some sort of cliche song of the space persuasion, ie: “Starman” by Bowie, “Saturn” by Stevie Wonder, or of course the timeless classic “Space Cowboys” by N*sync. Because it doesn’t matter how cleche it is, I’M IN FREAKING OUTERSPACE!
I would then roll out of bed and squeeze some floaty water blobs into my mouth, cause there would be no gravity of course. (Not sure how a toilet trip would go though…) My morning cup of coffee would be made by my robot, sitting next to a nice croissant and a magazine. I would read, eat a leisurely breakfast, then bob around a bit, practicing my anti-gravity flip moves, hopefully not breaking too many things in to process.
I would then get my space suit on and go for a quick lap floating around the space ship/craft/vessel what have you, maybe collecting space rocks, or take my helmet off and see how long I can hold my breath without it. After that I would take some photos, for Instagram of course, adding hashtags something like #SpaceNoFilter #SpaceYOLO #SelfieNoHelmet #SelfieDuckFaceInSpace #NBD #GravityAintNobodyGotTimeForThat.
By then my husband and fellow astronaut Ryan Gosling would have awoke and gone about doing his daily activities including writing love poems to me in French, sculpting his guns, making me cookies and asking me if I’ve lost weight. We would then write and play songs together, him on the guitar, me at the piano, that would be so epicly amazing that it would put the likes of the Beattles, Aretha Franklin, Simon & Garfunkle and Adele to shame! Then we would totally make out, cause we totally could. Maybe after that we would watch a movie or take a shuttle down to explore whatever planet we just happened upon that day. We don’t like to be too nailed down by a schedule so we would probably play it by ear.
[at home in Santa Monica]