A day in the life

It’s another cold, dark and dreary morning. Once again, I call on all of my willpower to force myself from the bed, drag myself through the shower, and pull on clothing. The Puppies, excited as ever for every moment and any occurrence, rush off the bed, out of the bedroom, through the dining room and kitchen and dance at the back door, waiting for the portal to open to their giant sand-box that doubles as our yard. I flip on lights as I shuffle behind them, sleepily shove my Green Lantern travel mug under the Keurig, hit the brew button, and open the back door as the sound of the dogs scampering off the back porch accompanies the feint whiff of what promises to be the first of many cups of java for me today.

As the dogs follow me back in, I give them their “good kids” treats, then fill their food and water bowls before I go through the motions of packing a lunch I probably won’t eat, and fill my backpack with items I probably won’t need or use throughout the day. I lumber outside to the car to start it up and give it a chance to get warm, then return to the quiet house for a final few moments. As always, I wince at the thought of leaving, wonder quietly how I am going to do this for another umpteen years, then pet and kiss both my puppies, promising them I will be home soon before placing them back in the room to snuggle next to their other dad, still slumbering.

Slipping on my sweater and hat, grabbing my phone and back pack, I leave the house once more and pile into my car. I slap the radio on and zone out to the latest report on NPR while I navigate the familiar, dark roads to my carpooling co-workers house. Once there, I park and transfer myself and my belongings to her car. It is her turn to drive this week, so I settle in to her heated passenger seat and listen to the low hum of her Adele CD as I stare out into blackness, catching a glimpse here and there into the home of a stranger through a lit window or staring emotionless into the headlights of an oncoming car. Some mornings, the car is filled with our back and forth banter of inane topics. Some mornings, it is just the low music and our silence.

The 45 minute drive to work allows me time to construct lists in my head for all the things I want and need to do tonight and this weekend. I also realize, before I even step foot in my office, I’m unlikely to do any of it.

And so my day begins…

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