Now that the sun comes streaming in my bedroom window at about 4am every day, I’ve been resetting my body clock and getting up super early.
I’m usually up before six. I get dressed and go running just after six. Quick turnaround, wash and dry my hair (which admittedly takes a very long time), and then on to work.
I like the morning. I like early morning. I like feeling like I’m part of some secret club with other morning people when the rest of the world is still tucked away under the covers. Lazy sods. It’s like we’re all in collusion. As if nobody else knows that the buses are so quiet at this time. That my hour-long bus journey takes only ten or fifteen minutes when there’s no traffic on the roads. That the people in my coffee shop are so much friendlier at 7am, and sometimes even let me have a taste of muffins and cakes they’ve been making for the day ahead.
It’s calming and exciting all at once. The day is full of promise, but there’s a serenity to the brightness.
Even better when you know that, despite the stress and the fact you won’t be leaving the office until much, much later that evening, there are nice things waiting, like emails from special people, or songs to listen to. And coffee. Mmmmm. Coffee.
I just wish I could hit pause and make this part of the day last longer. Because, before you know it, other people start arriving in the office, and it gets noisier, and busier, and the stress kicks in, and the phones start ringing, and then it’s 4pm and you haven’t had your lunch yet, or delivered half the projects that you were supposed to. And you find yourself locked in a toilet cubicle trying to catch your breath before a conference call with the client from hell.
If only everything was as lovely as the very start of the day.
Much like the very start of relationships.
Pizza of Doom 
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