I am assuming this will make pretty dull reading for the next ten years or so, and after that, mentions of email or iPods may start to sound historic.
I am 41 and I live in Brighton with my husband Joe and my 5-year-old daughter Tabitha. I'm a Web Editor for a global company: I manage a website in 11 languages.
In our family, I am the main breadwinner while Joe has always stayed at home and looked after Tabitha. We don't drive. These two facts make us unusual, but not exactly strange. That is to say, people rarely remark on it even if it is not the norm; I only tend to reflect on it when assumptions are made in the media that women are the housewives or that everyone is a motorist.
Today was a very ordinary day for me. Joe and I woke up at about 6.15 and I switched on my iPod (which I keep under my pillow at night) and read emails, Twitter, and Live Journal blog posts. At about 6.45, Tabs came in and wanted to play on it. I breakfasted on microwaved porridge and made sandwiches for work - Quorn ham, Philadelphia light cheese, and olive slices on bread made with our bread machine. We got the machine as a wedding present 7 years ago, and Joe has recently pulled it out from a cupboard and reignited his interest, so there is a fresh loaf daily at the moment.
I chose Tabs' clothes, but as time was getting on, I left Joe to dress her. I walk to work daily, leaving at just after 7.30. The office is just behind Brighton station and the walk takes about 25 minutes. I usually listen to a podcast - today it was This American Life. I waved to our neighbour, a plumber, as he drove past in his van.
I arrive before the rest of my team: when Tabs was born, I negotiated to work from 8 to 4.30 as these hours fit in with her schedule a bit better: the hours still suit me, so I've stuck to them. I always begin the day by checking emails - there weren't that many - and looking at work's social media on Twitter, Facebook and the blogs to see if any potential students have asked questions. I also open up my own Twitterstream and Live Journal Friends' page and keep them open through the day.
It was a very normal day at work. I was updating the way our course dates are displayed, across all languages. My time was interrupted now and then as I needed to manage my intern, Rachael. The 'big excitement' of the day was how cold it was in the office. The building was built to strongly eco standards, and one of its features is that it is supposed to self-regulate the temperature - but there are spots where it doesn't work too well. One by one, the team all started moaning and a maintenance man came to sort it out.
At lunch time I went with my colleague Marina to the cafeteria and got soup: aubergine and lemon, not a flavour I've ever seen before. I carried this and a leafy salad to my desk to eat with my sandwich. On the way, I called at reception to pick up a parcel from Amazon that had been delivered: books about pattern and design. Although I am aware that I am lucky to have a moderately creative job, I've always wished for one that is more so and Marina and I are hoping to make inroads into fabric design in the near future.
At 4.30 I went home, calling at Boots as my husband had emailed to ask me to pick him up some ear-plugs (in reply to an email I sent him with a link to a YouTube video of cats going down a slide, which I thought Tabitha would enjoy). I bought some face cream too, grimacing at the packaging splashed with grand claims that have to be quantified in footnotes.
On the way home I took a few photos of weeds, as I am considering them for fabric designs. I am sure people thought I was slightly odd.
I got home to find Tabitha about to eat some pasta and watch a DVD. I did some drawing and chided her about eating with her fingers. She had a bath and Joe is now putting her to bed with a story - we take it in turns - and we will spend the evening watching TV and perhaps I will do a bit more drawing.