Can we just start over?

It’s a good thing we have so-called “flex” time at work, because if not, I’d be getting the stern warning about being late for work.

Today, folks, is one morning I’d like to rewind and begin again.

Thing is, I can’t for the life of me figure out why in the world I was late today. Well, yes, I sort of can, but I generally do all of the stuff I did this morning every day and I still get to work on time. What went so wrong today?!

Let’s go over it.

5:15 a.m. or so: get out of bed. Sleeping so peacefully facedown on the pillow. Nice and cool. Alarm was not a nice moment.

5:20 a.m.: walk dog, fix dog’s food, prepare coffeemaker and set it to automatically brew coffee at 6:10 a.m.

5:30 a.m.: upstairs, sit in chair, drink orange juice, scoot over so Muffin can sit with me, read Bible, pray.

5:50ish a.m.: Take shower.

6:00 a.m: Apply moisturizer, comb through wet hair, put on makeup.

6:10 a.m.: Run downstairs, turn on oven, put in biscuits. Turn on iron to iron clothes to wear.

6:15-20ish a.m.: Dry hair. Wonder why I decided to grow it out. Dry hair some more.

6:30 a.m.: CRAP! It’s 6:30 a.m.! I’m still not dressed! Make bed, iron clothes. Get dressed. BISCUITS! Thankfully, not burned.

6:40 a.m.: Mess with hair. Curse hair. Curse face. Begin to feel that today may not be a good day since I feel so unpretty. Decide nothing can be done with hair, turn off light, leave bathroom. Run back in to grab ponytail holder, just in case.

6:45 a.m.: Coffee in travel mug. Biscuit and jelly to go. Forget lunch. Would have had to assemble it anyway and really should have been on the road 5-10 minutes ago. Oh, well.

6:50 a.m.: give dog a treat, turn off TV, turn up a/c, get in car, make way to work.

7:10 a.m.: Arrive at work. Just 10 minutes late, but I’m already mad. Get in elevator by myself, thank goodness! Catch glimpse of hair again, curse it again. Wonder if I unplugged the iron. . .

Yeah, it’s that kind of day. Now I’m feeling unexpectedly tired, a bit depressed since I fear something I’d been hoping for against my better judgment is a lost cause, and hoping the coffee works it’s magic.

And also secretly hoping to convince someone that we need to go to the Greek place at the Farmer’s Market for lunch. I need a gyro. STAT!