Rude Awakenings in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Whoa. I’d forgotten how good I had it in the mornings at my last job, sometimes simply rolling out of bed and slapping on jeans and a tee, barely brushing my hair, let alone my teeth (um, yes…that is a slight exaggeration…but not by much). I had a mere 15-minute commute, driving down a mellow stretch of highway (against traffic), and I’d stroll into the office sometime between 8:30 and 9. Ah, the life of luxury.

These days, my alarm goes off at 4:48 in the morning. That’s right. Before five AM. Urgh. Though I usually snooze until 5 anyway. It takes me about an hour and ½ to get ready, including making my coffee and checking my personal email (something I can’t do from work anymore—15 mins), feeding and playing with the cat (10 mins), showering and lotioning (20 mins), The Hair (15 mins), the makeup (10 mins), and of course, The Outfit (20 mins—seriously, I can never seem to figure this out until the last minute). Then, it takes about 15 minutes to get out of the building and find my freaking CAR (down the looooong hallway, down the elevator, say good-morning to the concierge, over the walkway, and through the corridor to the back parking lot…where I usually spend 5 or more minutes trying to remember where I parked the night before—it’s a large lot!—and there’s an exact clone of my car that I sometimes fumble around with before I find mine).

The commute is 30 minutes at best, which really isn’t that bad. You have to consider that I’m on the road before the heavy rush starts, and I get to drive opposite the major traffic since I’m reverse commuting from downtown into the suburbs. But I first have to drive through a tangle of downtown highway interchanges. The first few mornings were hairy, but I’m starting to get into the swing of aggressive driving again. I don’t like it, but it’s completely necessary. Plus, once I get out of the snare and onto the tollway (relief!), I speeeeeeed whenever I can, hovering at around 80. I drive the tollway for 20 of the 23.3-mile commute (yes, that’s more than $85/month I’m now paying for the luxury of being able to risk a speeding ticket on a daily basis). I toggle the radio back and forth, but normally settle on the odd combination of [a] NPR, [b] sports talk radio (I don’t really know what and who they’re talking about most of the time, but I’m getting there!), and [c] the hip-hop station (wakes my white ass up). I drive into one of the biggest parking garages known to mankind, though I have found a fairly prime “secret” spot by parking on the top level of the backside and walking into one of the building’s side doors (about 10 more minutes to park, lock, and walk), and I’m golden, finally sitting at my desk by 7:30 am.

Goodbye, sleeping in. Goodbye, leisurely mornings spent watching the sunrise and sobering up. Hello again, pre-crack-of-dawn dream-interrupting rude awakenings, shitty drivers, and corporate office cubicle!!