Fun story: I meant to start my morning about three hours before I did. Pandito is coming into town tonight and I will be scurrying out of work right on time (instead of super late) for the next two days. My brilliant plan was to set my alarm for 5:26 AM, get up, wash my hair, tidy my apartment, and skip out the door. I’d built in time to treat myself to a latte, give myself a look in the bathroom mirror, and put on make up in a nice way. Nothing could go wrong.
As my eyes fluttered open, I wondered why it was so light outside. My sleep machine was still playing (rain and waves). The next two minutes of my life happened in slow motion. I checked the clock I keep right next to my bed and it said 8:00, which was crazy because my alarm hadn’t gone off. Then I shot out of bed and raced over to my treacherous iPhone, which clearly showed that my alarm had gone off at the right moment and probably for many, many moments to follow. But even a smart phone can’t go over and tickle you until you wake up (my mother is an interesting woman). So I picked up my phone racing around my apartment in a sort of bowlegged crab run-squat saying, “Oh God, oh God, oh God!!!!” We had an 8:15 AM breakfast delivery for work and I was supposed to be there. After panic-searching my phone for someone effective to call, I realized that it is Thursday and not Friday, the day of our breakfast delivery.
Feeling calmer, I washed my bangs in the sink, put on clothes and sprinted out the door. Am I clean? No. Was I late to work? Yes. But the world keeps turning and I keep rolling along.