Wake-Up Call or “The Morning Dance”
My mornings aren’t quiet meditations or Instagram-worthy shots of me sipping matcha on a perfectly balanced windowsill while the sunlight hits all the right angles. No, my wake-up routine is a scene somewhere between a Caribbean household soundtrack courtesy of Beres Hammond and a minor episode of reality TV chaos. If you grew up in a Jamaican-American home like mine, you’ll understand: mornings are active, energetic, loud even.
Before I even open my eyes fully, I’m greeted by the sharp tones of my dad’s voice echoing in my memory: "Rise and shine—can’t sleep away your life, bwoi!" It’s involuntary but effective auditory conditioning. Despite living on my own now, I half-expect a knock on my door, so I make it a point to get up immediately. No snooze buttons. That’s rule number one in the Chambers household, where snoozing is practically a national insult.
What kicks off my day proper, though, is music. I start with reggae radio playlists—a little Damian Marley or Protoje sets the tone. Music was omnipresent growing up, and now it’s my anchor. My apartment in D.C. might be smaller than the space I feel I deserve (housing market woes, anyone?), but that rhythm reminds me of the grounding cultural pulse I carry with me every day. Coffee? Later. For now, reggae is both the caffeine and the vibe-setter.
The Office (Ahem, My Kitchen Table)
By 9 a.m., I’ve transitioned to full workflow mode—or at least, that’s the goal. My desk might be a repurposed kitchen table, but it’s where the magic happens. Writing political thrillers and crafting articles on love and dating means I bounce between two very different parts of my brain. One is high-stakes fiction: conspiracies, lies, and D.C. bureaucratic intrigue one chapter at a time. On the other hand, I’m writing about relationships—which, let’s be honest, can feel just as complex as any backroom deal on Capitol Hill.
The two, oddly enough, overlap. I’ve always believed that both romance and politics revolve around negotiation, timing, and compromise (with the occasional dramatic twist no one saw coming). Working from home means I wrestle with structure: do I tackle love and relationships advice before lunch, or dive into today’s Machiavellian subplot? Either way, I break my focus every hour or so for a stretch and—let’s be real—for a quick scroll through Twitter. (Yes, Twitter, not X. Old habits die hard.)
Midday and the Sandwich That Saves Lives
This might sound wild, but I have a theory: the perfect sandwich will bring clarity to even the foggiest brain. Cooking isn’t just something I do to survive—it’s ritualistic. If you’ve never had an oxtail stew sandwich—yes, you read that right—you’re seriously missing out. It’s my spin on the flavors of my childhood, layered into handheld bliss. A little experimentation in the kitchen midmorning reminds me to stay curious and playful, whether in writing or in life.
Food is connection for me—be it to my roots or to others. When I think back to my parents cooking dinner while debating domino strategies (pro tip: always play aggressively, or don’t play at all), I’m reminded that relationships thrive not on grand gestures, but on little, consistent rituals. Whether you’re reheating soup or assembling your best “I made this from scratch!” plate for a date, food carries memory, intention, and love. (Also: add more scotch bonnet to everything. You’re welcome.)
Post-Lunch Walks: The Hidden Relationship Hack
While plot twists in my writing often happen at my laptop, epiphanies about dating and relationships tend to come on my afternoon walks. This is when I clear my head, but also when my mind wanders to people in my life. The thing about big ideas while walking the streets of D.C.—or pacing around the National Mall—is that movement fuels clarity.
True story: one year, on a walk near the Lincoln Memorial, I realized I’d been holding onto a grudge from a breakup way longer than was healthy. The memory of losing touch over a miscommunication kept circling in my head. That reflective moment eventually birthed both a novel plotline and a much-needed apology text. Ultimately, relationships—platonic, romantic, or professional—improve when you’re willing to be honest about your own barriers to growth.
Pro tip for singles: invite someone on a walking date. There’s something about side-by-side conversation—no pressure to lock eyes, no distractions—that just works. You’re literally moving forward together, both physically and metaphorically. Plus, if the conversation stalls, there’s always architecture or nature to talk about (and maybe even bond over your shared disdain for bird scooters).
Evening: Showdowns on the Domino Table
By now, you’ve probably guessed I grew up in a domino-playing household where slapping down tiles is an Olympic sport. Before you get carried away with assumptions, no, I’m not actually good at playing dominoes. But I try—especially when catching up with family. Domino games aren’t just fun; they’re social puzzles. You’ve got to weigh strategy against intuition, banter against silence, and figure out when to let go of that one elusive six you swear will change the game.
It reminds me, though, of the dating feedback I’ve given friends over the years: stop holding your tiles so close to the chest. Okay, I don’t actually say it like that, but the sentiment stands. Transparency and vulnerability go a long way, and though opening up doesn’t guarantee winning (or love), staying authentically in the game usually leads to better relationships down the line—romantic or otherwise.
The Nightcap of Nostalgia
My nights are quieter than my mornings but no less grounded in ritual. After dinner—not a sandwich this time, though I’ve considered it—I slip into a Netflix binge of something I’ve promised myself is research (hello, “The Diplomat”). While cracking open politically charged dramas or cultural comedies, my brain gets to simmer down after a day of storytelling. I let myself spiral into reflection: did I say something thoughtful enough in today’s advice column? Did my draft properly convey what it means to fall head over heels for someone in a world of chaos? (The chaos could apply to politics, dating, or both at that point … same difference.)
Before bed, I journal. No drawn-out “Dear Diary” drama here—just quick bullet points: what went well today, what didn’t, what deserves a second look tomorrow. It’s equal parts inspiration and accountability. I end with gratitude—it’s hokey, I know, but I blame my mom for that. She’d always say at the end of a long day, “Give thanks, no matter how small.” Whether dating or writing, I’ve realized nothing truly grows without first recognizing what’s already there.
Why It Matters
This might seem like a lot for one day, and in some senses, it is—writing, walking, cooking, family, reflection. It’s busy, but it’s real, and every piece of the puzzle feeds into the way I approach relationships. Music gives rhythm to my day, meals remind me of connection, dominoes teach strategic vulnerability, and long walks inspire clarity. For anyone out there juggling the demands of life while trying to deepen bonds or seek love, my routine is a quiet invitation: take stock of your rituals. They’re probably doing more work for you than you realize.
And no matter where your day leads, remember: keep playing your tiles, blasting your soundtrack, and building—a little at a time. You’ve got this.
