This is a satirical day in Orlando Bloom's life. You can read about his actual (bizarre) daily routine here.
Katy is asleep beside me because she’s been up all night feeding our seven-month-old daughter. Still, I’m annoyed. I only got seven and a half hours sleep and Katy knows my sleep tracker likes me to get at least eight. If I don’t it goes into the orange zone instead of the green zone and that gives me a sense of discomfort I don’t appreciate.
As I get up, I hear Daisy’s cries coming from the other end of our 17-bedroom home. I can’t remember which one she’s in. Eventually, I find her and pat her gently while smiling, but she’s screaming and it’s honestly quite rude. It’s time for my morning chant and it can’t wait.
I decide if I chant loud enough it will a) wake up Katy so she can tend to the baby, and b) drown out the sound of the crying. So I chant for a solid 20 minutes, without taking a breath. When Katy finds me she tells me our seven-month-old is more mature than I am, and I explain that that’s ridiculous. Daisy isn’t nearly clever enough to have thought of this ploy.
After my chants, it’s time for me to read some Buddhist texts and yes, I obviously add them to my Instagram stories. I’d like it noted that this is the ONLY time I look at my phone in the morning because I don’t want to get sucked into a social media black hole that involves, for example, turning your religious beliefs into something performative.