Before the Rooster Crows

Every working day of my married life, my husband Jerry has gotten up well before the rooster crows, taken a quick shower, downed an iced tea and headed off to work.  (I believe he kisses me goodbye before he leaves the house, but I wouldn't swear to it.)  He arrives at his destination several hours before work officially begins.  A creature of habit, he likes his morning routine.  He says his schedule offers many advantages:  he beats the traffic; he has time alone at work to answer emails, tie up yesterday's loose ends and plan today's agenda.  

I have a morning routine that I like too, it's just happens later than Jerry's does.  A lot later.  I awaken when I'm done sleeping, then I get up and go for a walk, usually with my friend Mary Ann.  I then come home and start my day, sometimes eating breakfast at the same time my husband is having lunch.   While he feels most alert and energized in the early morning, my most creative time is hours after that and so we have arranged our lives accordingly. 

This year, I've had the dubious pleasure of leaving the house prior to my          husband's departure twice already and it's only February.  This has shattered several items on my long list of 'nevers.' (I never do this...I never do that...I never brush my teeth with cortisone cream - that one was an accident.  All tubes feel the same when you're fumbling around in the dark.)

The first event was a health fair where I ran smack dab into another night owl out of her element.  She was dressed in a nurse's uniform trying to blend in but I recognized her as one of my own.  "How?"  I knew because I complimented her on her glasses which turned out to be new.  As she was telling me about where she got them, she looked right at my bespectacled face and sweetly said, "Do you wear glasses?"  BINGO! That was a classic night owl blunder.  (Thank GOD it was after she'd drawn my blood!)  We both burst out laughing, which, when I think about it, might have actually frightened the others in the room who were waiting for their turn at the vampire's table.    

The next occasion I had to sally forth into the pre-dawn was of my own choosing.  I decided to join Toastmasters.  It was a New Year's resolution but it took the entire month of January before I was actually able to get up in time to make the 7:00 a.m. meeting.

Since I didn't know exactly where the Toastmasters met, I felt the need to leave the house forty-five minutes early to allow for traffic and the inevitable "getting lost three times" that always accompanies me whenever I drive anywhere.  I set my alarm for 5:30 but woke a half an hour early.  Because I was so excited, I had had trouble falling asleep the night before, so I was working with about three and a half hours' sleep.  I was beginning to understand why people find drinking  coffee so charming.

It was lucky that I had allowed extra time because when I got outside, my car was covered in a layer of frost.  Normally it would have been burned off by the sun but the sun wasn't up yet.  Instead, there was a big, beautiful full moon and the bright lights of cars and city. 

If this is sunrise, Jerry took the picture

I'm a big fan of sunsets and thought that one of the perks of getting up at an ungodly hour was that I'd have an opportunity to see the sunrise but it was even too early for that.  I arrived at my destination in the dark.

During Toastmasters time, the sun rose without me but I still couldn't take advantage of Charlotte shopping because it was too early for the stores to be open.  (Who knew?)  Prime-time rush hour was now occurring but good fortune smiled upon me because my drive was in the opposite direction of the wolf pack. Then, in the distance, I witnessed something I haven't seen in years: yellow buses picking little kids up for school. 

Even children were now up and ready for their day to begin.  Not me though.  All I could think of was, "If I hurry home, I can take a nap before breakfast."