Thursday, January 12, 2006

Good Morning! (Yeah, right.)

I wish I was a Morning Person. Every single morning I rush around and am late for my ride to work. My routine is as follows:

7:30 a.m. Alarm goes off. Today's CD is Franz Ferdinand. I know this clock is 18 minutes fast, so I hit Snooze. After all, I plan to go to the gym this morning and run for exactly 30 minutes.

7:40 a.m. Alarm goes off. It's actually 7:22 a.m. If I hit Snooze, I can still make it the gym and back by 8:20 a.m. I hit Snooze.

7:50 a.m. Alarm goes off. I convince myself I have no time to go to the gym. Darn. I re-set my alarm for 8:30.

8:30 a.m. Alarm goes off. I hit Snooze.

8:40 a.m. Alarm goes off. I hate Franz Ferdinand. I hit Snooze.

8:50 a.m. Alarm goes off. SHIT! I turn my attention to the clock that's above my TV set. This clock is set correctly. It's actually 8:32 a.m. and I have to walk five blocks to meet my ride at 9 a.m.

Correct clock time: 8:32 a.m. Run to the bathroom, strip faster than Paris Hilton about to get taped. Turn on shower, brush teeth, hop in shower.

8:42 a.m. Am in room, hair in towel, robe on. Look at the array of colorful eyeshadows. As I don't yet know what I'm wearing to work, I can't exactly match my shadow with my outfit, as I'd like. I opt for Clinique's Rose Wine, a neutral pink/brown combo. Apply makeup.

8:49 a.m. Frantically find a presentable outfit. Opt for jeans and a cami w/ a blazer or sweater. Toss clothes onto bed.

8:51 a.m. Race to the bathroom and attempt to dry hair. Find that I have no time to dry my hair, so I dry my bangs, add a volumizer to roots and attempt to scrunch ends so it looks wavy in that sexy/sultry kind of way. I look like a wet rat.

8:55 a.m. Realize that I have to iron my fucking jeans. Iron and toss on clothes.

8:57 a.m. Need shoes. Pick a pair of heels, as I've suddenly accumulated more heels than flats in my closet. I don't know when this switch took place, but I frequently find myself hobbling down the street in shoes that pinch.

8:58 a.m. Fuck. I have no time to make a salad. I grab a frozen cheese ravioli and stuff in giganto purse. Race around grabbing random things I need to bring to work. Stuff in purse.

9 a.m. Triple fuck. I hear the church bells ring, and I know I will be late. There's no way I can hobble my way five blocks in three minutes. I attempt it anyway.

Pretty ridiculous, huh? Sometimes I beat my ride to the corner; sometimes she is waiting for me. But every morning is the same. I have been setting my alarm at 7:30 a.m. for the past four months, and I've made it to the gym once before work. Any advice on how to break this habit before it breaks me?

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