30 Day Writing Challenge — Day 22: Your Morning Routine

There is this nagging ringing in my dreams. I was just visiting with Mr. Handsome in some quiet cafe in Florence. I was just getting used to the cool blue of his eyes when, all of a sudden, the fire alarm goes off?

It is 6:00 a.m. and alarm clocks are the bane of my existence. If you couldn’t grasp the pain which I feel for mornings from my entry for Day 16, well, you might need your head examined.

My weekday morning routine starts, and continues, with me hitting the snooze button for at least an hour. Oh, but sometimes I don’t even realize I’m hitting the snooze. Sometimes I just roll over and poof!

I’m convinced that the snooze button ought to be scared of Morning Jen by now, and it just hits itself, in anticipation of my eminent behavioral pattern.

After the alarm has nagged at me and given up, guilt inevitably takes over.

“Why aren’t you up yet?”
“Because my flannel sheets are warm and it’s a cold, cruel world out there.”
“Just get up and take a shower you lazy bumb.”
“Why do today what you can put off until tomorrow? Nobody would miss me at work.”
“Morning Jen, just repent of your sloth and get in the shower. You’ll feel better! It will wake you up!”

Eventually, I feel the hot water rushing over me, not entirely sure how I actually got in the shower. And later, when I am at work and nursing my second cup of coffee, I finally look around. The guilt is assuaged, the coworkers are staring into their own coffee cups, and I am vertical.

This is pretty much five mornings a week for me.

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30 Day Writing Challenge — Day 16: Bullet Your Day

  • 5:15 a.m. Alarm on phone goes off. I hit snooze. I’m not sure this actually happened.
  • 6:00 a.m. Next alarm on phone goes off. I hit snooze. Eyes do not open.
  • 6:15 a.m. Next alarm on phone goes off. I hit snooze. See a pattern yet?
  • 6:30 a.m. Alarm goes off again. This time I reach over, pick up said phone, and proceed to thrust it under the pillow beside me in the hopes of never hearing the alarm again.
  • 6:45 a.m. Clearly, the phone and I didn’t communicate well enough. I sit up, fish the phone out from underneath the pillow and figure out how to turn off the alarm.
  • 7:00 a.m. Stumble into the shower.
  • 7:20 a.m. Stumble back to bedroom, cleaner and somewhat dry. Attempt to find uniform.
  • 7:25 a.m. Thank the heavens for work uniforms; they eliminate the need to think in the mornings. (Everything else that must occur is successful due in large part to muscle memory.)
  • 7:45 a.m. Leave for work. Drive to work.
  • 8:00 a.m. Drink coffee our admin assistant made for the office. Realize name tag is upside down on uniform. Attempt morning conversation with said admin, but really, I just nodded a lot.
  • 8:25 a.m. Open email and start reading my government spam for the day.
  • 8:30 a.m. Oh wait! There is an actual email addressed to me! And it is from someone I want to talk to! Eat some yogurt and blackberries I brought with me to work while coming up with my response email. (I pack breakfast and lunch the night before because, well, I know me.)
  • 9:00 a.m. Get second cup of coffee from break room. Go to office safe, pull out October bookstore sales envelopes and start organizing the monthly remittance process in advance of teaching it to the admin assistant (who is newer than me and slated to take over this task as soon as she is trained).
  • 9:30 a.m. Overhear admin assistant attempting a three-way conversation with someone on the phone and our supervisor about the electronic road sign we have for our park. Sign is currently not working and is outside of the firewall of our computer and servers, therefore we cannot do anything about broken sign. IT person for the park has taken leave for a family matter, and cannot help with process. Regional office wants it fixed, TXDOT wants it working or removed (they claim it’s their right-of-way), and admin assistant just wants to do her job.
    • Happy to not be involved in that debacle, I offer to just do the bookstore remittance by myself. I do not tell coworkers that I did about 1/3 of yesterday already because I knew we wouldn’t have time to teach the process and do it all today. Smart Jen. (Maybe that coffee is working after all.)
  • 11:30 a.m. Finished only maybe 5 days’ deposits, stomach rumbling. Normally, I am not hungry after only a couple of hours, but today I was starving. I heated up some of my lovely butternut squash and devoured it. (Admin assistant is still freaking out about sign, now with phone caller, our supervisor, and another division chief.)
  • 12:30 p.m. Finished a few more deposit envelopes, and went to get a package of Reese’s peanut butter cups from the break room. I normally bring all of my own food, but today was an emergency.
  • 1:00 p.m. Remember the email from this morning that I was happy to receive? Turns out sender needs a bit more information. From a website that I am currently locked out of, so I cannot get said information. I reply back to this, and no more than 5 minutes later, POOF! Someone on their end has found a way around the issue and has the information they needed. Genius. This is making my day – this email is all good news that I will get to share with people eventually. But today is not the day. Today is remit and sign day. We must conquer! We are rangers! We can do anything! (Clearly, the third cup of coffee that I sneaked a while back worked.)
  • 2:00 p.m. Winds are gusting outside. After all, this is the Texas Panhandle. Our internet and phones go out. Somewhere, a line has gone down. This is the perfect excuse for some of our office people to leave work early. We never see them again the rest of the day.
  • 2:15 p.m. Internet and phones still out, I reheat some more of my squash and then eat a banana. Where does this appetite come from? Consider calling our cooperating agency who runs the bookstore to tell them that without computer access, we cannot finish the monthly remittance today. Then I realize I cannot make that call (re-read 2:00 p.m. entry). So I heat up some left over coffee in the break room.
  • 3:00 p.m. Winds still gusts, walls shaking on our building, but yea! The internet and phones start working again! I can finish the remit after all. Still can’t pull admin assistant away from sign problem for more than 5 minutes to teach her much of this process.
  • 4:00 p.m. Finished everything I could for October remit, awaiting one document from our other building , the visitor center, before I can fax off this month’s papers.
  • 4:30 p.m. Staff from visitor center hasn’t yet made it back to HQ, so I give up for the day. Admin assistant and I close HQ for the night and go home.
  • 5:00 p.m. I’m finally awake, sitting here at my laptop on the kitchen table, mind spinning around contents of the all-important email from today. I am rather apathetic of the fact that I counted more than $1,000 in small daily sales (most week days are $10-25 at the visitor center; Saturdays and Sundays generally average $75-$100) for our park bookstore today.
  • Still hungry, need to find dinner and something to drink. Maybe I should make a pot of coffee?