Ever have one of those mornings where you just can’t seem to get out of bed? Where it wouldn’t matter if the skies were bluer than a robin’s egg, barely a cloud in the sky, and birds twittering at one another and singing for their breakfast, but all you wanted was to slink straight back under the covers and close your eyes?
Yeah, that’s me this morning.
My cat, Binx, tried his usual best to wake me up in the wee hours of the morning dark, yet I didn’t wake up to pat him and say hello back. I almost didn’t wake up when my fitbit vibrated my signal to rise to face another day. I could’ve easily slipped back into sweet unconsciousness and flown back into the coercing adventures of dreamland.
By some sheer miracle, I managed to roll over and check the time on my phone, which blared the thin white numbers 4:57am. Mind you, I normally wake up at 4:35 to have valuable bathroom time all to myself before the rest of my family comes bumbling down the stairs in their slightly-disoriented-just-woken-up stupor. As my heart jumped about a foot up my throat, I leaped from the bed, almost cartwheeled down the stairs, and clumsily opened the food cans for four hungry mewling cats.
I don’t quite remember how I had gotten myself fed and clothed, yet there I was, standing in the bathroom with my work attire on and brushing out the mangled mess of my hair when I heard the heavy-set steps of my father. And not long after my papa, down came my mom, patiently waiting for me to grab my makeup so she could take her clock-work shower.
The rest of the morning followed similar suit. I remember getting into my car, yet the actual travel time between home and work are somewhat fuzzy. I can tell you that I listened to Adam Levine, Shawn Mendes, and several other songs that made me want to swing mindlessly to the beat and melody.
And so, as I sit here at work, writing this piece to keep myself awake, all that I can keep thinking about is: did I bring coffee??
L.J. LaBree 