Remembering the old work days ... |
The
TV clicks on at 5.30am shattering the dark hush of a morning that hasn’t yet
even been born.
“Good morning,
it’s 5.30am on the East Coast and in our breaking story this morning an
octogenarian woman is clubbed to death outside her suburbia home while
neighbors look on in horror. We’ll
take you to the scene, but first a check on the weather outside your front
door.” The screen flickers, then flickers again.
“And now for a
check of your local traffic at 5.45am.”
Oh no.
Overslept.
How did that
Happen?
Push covers,
Flip out,
Feet on cold
Tile floor.
I can never figure
out quite how I lose those ten minutes in the morning, as I run to the toilet,
behind schedule again.
Flush,
Brush,
Rinse and spit.
Splash water on my
face;
Throw on
Sneakers,
Grab keys
Rush to the gym
Again.
My I-Pod is playing
loud, stirring music in my ears so I don’t have to hear the screaming of the
MTV music videos overhead. I’ll
take 70’s classic rock any day over the head-banging stuff of
today.
Push,
Pull,
Grunt and groan;
Sweat till it
Drips down my
neck;
Hoist,
Lift,
Trot and stretch;
Drive back,
Get mail
Get going.
The news is still
blaring when I walk in the door, still talking about the same old same
old. I’m almost impervious to
it. The weather is doing what the
weather is doing – in fact the weather is always going to do exactly what it
feels like and I can do nothing about it.
Why do I bother to listen then?
Peel fruit
Chew, eat
Chug vitamins
Gulp, drip,
Rinse
Run for the shower
Check the clock,
time’s whizzing on. Heck, it
doesn’t wait for me. What’s on the
agenda today? In the steaming shower I lather up my hair and brush my teeth
while thinking about another morning’s meeting at the office.
I've given up on the news these days and running in the rat race of the old work day. It's changed my life and I'm so grateful.
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Unless otherwise noted, all articles are written by Cath Rathbone. (Copyright Catherine (Cath) Rathbone and Noony Brown)