I Hate Mornings

One mistake can completely throw me off.

It takes me a long time to wake up. I get out of bed an hour before I actually have to leave the house so that I can be somewhat coherent. Even then my brain lags a bit behind the rest of me.

This lack of cognitive function is the main reason I value my morning routine so highly. When I do the exact same thing every day, I know that everything gets done. I don't end up leaving the house without a shirt or forgetting to comb my hair when I stick to my routine. Changing my routine takes a while, and I'm still adjusting to the fact that we have a dog now.

This morning was mostly fine. I left the house and locked the door and walked over to the metro. I had a nagging feeling that something was wrong, but I tried to ignore it. Whatever I'd forgotten to do could probably wait until I get home. (There's a reason I feed the cat at night instead of in the morning. I've messed that one up a few times.) I said good morning to the man who hands out newspapers and got on the train.

In the time it took me to travel two stops, I realized that I shouldn't have locked the door. Kevin had rushed out with a hasty "good-bye" just before me. But he wasn't headed to work; he was walking the dog. He almost never takes his keys when walking the dog meaning that I had probably locked him out of the house. When I leave the house in the morning, I typically lock the door, remember that Kevin is walking the dog, and unlock the door. Today it took me a lot longer than normal to get to that second step.

I tried to call, but there was no answer on his phone. Convinced that he'd also left his phone in the house and remembering that he had an important client meeting, I hopped off the train and grabbed a cab. The cab would save me the time spent walking from the metro back to my house.

I expected that I'd arrive to Kevin and the dog sitting on our front step trying to figure out what to do. Instead the stoop was empty, and his car was gone. Having been locked out of the house the day before, he had actually taken his keys with him while walking the dog. Crisis averted non-existent. I ended up getting to work about half an hour late.

It doesn't seem quite as bad now that I've calmed down and realized that nothing was terribly messed up. Work didn't really care that I was late (luckily I didn't have any early meetings), and I'm out the cost of the cab fare which isn't the end of the world. But I'm still mad at myself for my complete inability to think clearly in the mornings.