Era Vulgaris Noon

My collective tardiness for the week exceeds four hours, and there's still not enough motivation to get moving in the mornings. I cannot tolerate feeling rushed in the mornings. I cheat this by starting my mornings before I go to bed, and make the act of waking and sliding into my clothes, my breakfast, my bicycle, as part of a continuous flow.

Fridays always feel as if they aren't happening. I push forward through a headwind that persists regardless of which direction the road is pointing. "Do you need help?" she asks when I approach the door, when I'm untangling my hair from my face.

"Nah, I've got it," I claim, but she's held the door for me anyway. "Thanks a lot!"

14 February 2014 15:00