Most of my mornings are slow and steady. I like to leave enough time to do what needs to be done without too much rushing around.
This morning was one of those delicious ones - awake before the alarm went off, knowing there was time to savor the warmth of the covers, the chill air on my nose and the pattern on the wall from the street light outside shining through the window blinds.
Then the steaming cup of coffee taken back to bed, to rewarm my feet which became chilled going to the kitchen.
The luxurious sensation of dozing after the coffee was gone, listening to the radio - a song, a contest with a caller and the news of the nightmarish traffic for the poor people that commute.
The satisfied feeling that I am not a commuter. I am just steps away from my desk.
In contrast to yesterday, when the alarm had not been set. Rush rush rush. No question, the way I wake up sets a tone for the rest of the day.
I recall when the kids were young and every day was that kind of rush - getting everyone ready and fed and lunches packed and text books found and sharing one bathroom, frayed tempers, missing shoes, watching the clock, "we're running late, late LATE". I felt like my first moment of restfulness was when I finally got to work!
It was the way of life then, but I prefer my routine now much more. Though I probably wouldn't appreciate it as much if I hadn't lived through the other!