As I watch the small brown sugar packet fly out my hand and make its way toward the floor as if in slow motion, I let myself have a small laugh. Not an audible laugh, because I’m standing in the middle of a half-full Starbucks at 7:55am and I don’t want to seem like a crazy person, but a little tiny internal HA. My morning has been a lot like the morning of that little raw sugar packet. My last three days have been like that little guy’s morning. Here I am, just chilling exactly where I thought and planned to be, and then some half-asleep idiot in a pink shirt starts to shake me and THEN FLINGS ME ONTO THE GROUND. Ok so maybe that’s not exactly what happened to me, but pretty close.
This morning my alarm didn’t go off. That may be an alternative fact. More likely, it went off, I turned it off, and then I went back to sleep. Then I wake up naturally! Beautifully! I slept so well! Oh shit it’s 6:30. I check my phone through blurry eyes. Google Maps, 2 minutes ago: “Leave now to arrive at work by 7:50” NONONO. Panic sets in. I throw on minimal makeup and clothing (JK I wore all of my clothes, sheesh) and run out the door. I arrive at work 20 minutes early by some miracle of the universe. I bang my elbow getting out of my car. I punch in the building door code, enter, then fail to correctly disable the building alarm, prompting ear-splitting shrieking as the alarm makes its presence known. I press as many buttons as I can. It works and the system is disarmed (at least no one has shown up to arrest me yet).
I finish my makeup in the bathroom and thank the universe for both makeup and allowing me to arrive at work twenty minutes early. I make my 50-foot journey to Caffeine City
accidentally fling the packet of sugar onto the floor.