You probably know the format. It’s a description of a typical day, famously occupying the back page of the Sunday Times Colour Supplement ( I believe they call it a “magazine” these days) with a focus on the notable in culture and society.

The Tom Baker one is a scream.

It’s also a format I first wrote in third year senior (uh, Year 10 in current money?) and enjoyed thoroughly.

So, as it’s a Sunday, and I’m out of ideas from the past weeks’ blogging marathon, here it is: A Life in the Day of a Tech Writer (with Comedic Aspirations)


I aim to rise at 6.30 every morning to get some early writing in. For this I rely on my alarm clock, Daisy, who usually punches me in the gut at 6.15 prompt to announce that she has brushed her teeth.

A piggy back and Colombian coffee (from the pretentious but vital Tassimo) later and I’m at the kitchen table typing as Daisy watches Peppa Pig, Octonauts, or whatever this week’s favourite is (my own is Ben and Holly’s Little Kingdom).

The next hour is typically productive, but the twins will appear separately and by 7.45 it’s full flow, with breakfast, arguments school uniforms, and packed lunch.

Recently taking to blogging regularly (hello…), I recommence at 8.30am as the trio head out to school, then “write for money” from 9am. I’ve started using the pomodoro method to better focus on work, so the next few hours until lunch is typically a mix of writing and editing as I try hard to avoid social media. I might have a quick bowl of cereal, or stop for a brunch 10-10.30am.

There’s also a good dose of SEO research, but that is as boring as it sounds. Naturally I prefer the really fun stuff – recording tech review videos, and podcasting. I have a great portable podcasting station that for Reasons of Lockdown has never been used out of the house.

Lunch is usually a sandwich and crisps, or an occasional cheeky pub meal with my wife.

Afternoons have recently – with the drawing in of the evening light – been focusing on tidying the back garden with a view to having a garden office erected. This in iles quite a bit of moving things around, sweeping, binning, and demolishing an existing shed, not to mention installing an electrical extension and foundations.

We live close to the primary school (an academy) so once 3pm cycles around it isn’t long before the children are home. A snack and a chat later, it’s a quick change and a trip to dance school, with a packed dinner for the twins, followed by something sweet and warm milk when they get home. I might greet my neighbour as he negotiates his temperamental car alarm, an almost daily occurrence.

Often my wife will have a council meeting in Zoom in the evening, leaving me and the youngest to juggle work, play, and a bedtime story before I pick the twins up, perhaps with a half hour of work on my laptop in the car park outside dance school.

The working day – as stop and start as it seems – tends to end at 9pm when the children are finally asleep and I’m on top of all editing tasks. At that point, Ceri and I snuggle on the sofa, watch TV for 90 minutes, and treat ourselves to a spicy snack and glass of ginger beer (me) and gin (her).

That’s when I try to switch off, but if there is a family phone call I might check my schedule and plan the next day, wash up, and maybe even sort out the packed lunches.

After that, I might wrestle with the Amazon Fire stick, then drift away until the cries of horror from a nightmare echo around the house.

That, or my neighbour’s sodding car alarm.