Alternate title to this post: A lesson in humility
Last week some co-workers and I were discussing morning routines… talking about how some of us have our mornings timed down to the minute, and how others like to piddle. We were comparing what time everyone has to leave for work in order to make it on time. I mentioned that I normally leave the house at 6:52 am, allowing myself plenty of time to make it to work by 7:30. In fact, typically I get here about 7:15.
I mentioned that I have never really understood people who are late—especially people who are chronic snooze-button-pushers, or people who sleep through their alarms. That concept is foreign to me, and I have been known to judge those who show up late somewhere due to the aforementioned excuses rather harshly… my husband included!
So it was only fitting that today God deemed it fit to humble me and remind me that (gasp!), I am just as capable of making mistakes.
I went to sleep around 9:30 pm last night, so waking up at 5:15 am should not have been a problem. And in fact, I do recall waking up late into the night/early in the morning on several occasions, thinking to myself that surely my alarm would be going off any minute. But, and I’m sure many of you can relate to this, I had absolutely no desire to roll over and look at the clock, only to learn that there were a mere 3 minutes left until my alarm went off. So I did what I have been training myself to do: did not look at the clock and went back to sleep. Besides, it was still very dark and I was hoping it was more like 3 or 4 am instead of 5 am.
Eventually I did fall back asleep and was awakened by my alarm moments later… and by moments I mean TWO HOURS LATER. The music went off and I opened my eyes, and as I rolled over to turn off the alarm, I noticed 2 things: (1) there was light coming in from the window and (2) there was most definitely a “7” where the “5” should have been on my clock. Apparently I set my alarm clock for 7:16 instead of 5:16. Panic.
I then scrambled out of bed, and with my husband’s help, managed to brush my teeth, wash my face, put on deodorant, dress myself, and get into the car by 7:24 (that’s 8 minutes for those of you who are counting). I sprinted out to the car while Brian lovingly reminded me not to speed (yeah, right) and not to put my makeup on in the car (yeah, right) because it was foggy and he didn’t want me to get in a wreck. Let’s pretend I took his advice :o)
I miraculously arrived at work by 7:40 am, thankfully only 10 minutes late. Nonetheless, it has put a kink in my entire morning. I still feel a little panicked and rushed, and the fact that I didn’t have time to eat my daily bowl of Raisin Bran has really thrown me off. I also managed to run out of the house without putting my wedding ring on. So now I look like that frumpy single girl that gave up hope and stopped trying to impress anyone.
Although oddly enough, a co-worker informed me this morning that I look like a super hero today… something about the glasses and the bun? If my super power is having greasy hair that for some reason seems to be emitting the smell of corn tortillas, then he’s right on the money.
Anyway, I would love to say that I have learned my lesson and will never again judge someone for showing up late, but if we are going to honest, I will likely stubbornly continue to do so. Please forgive me. And while you’re at it, please see if Jillian Michaels will forgive me for not meeting up with her this morning for my daily dose of degradation, er, I mean workout.
Hope your Monday is off to a smoother start than mine!