Some days my alarm goes off first.
It's so hard to get yourself out of bed when the temperature is 28* outside. The house isn't that cold, but something about the dark and the winter--I could stay in bed all day. I quickly shower and get ready; on the days I work, I rarely put any effort into how I look. Just going to get covered in coffee anyway.
I have a twenty minute walk to the train, if I'm lucky the sun is already rising when I walk out the door. The leaves are crispy with frost and any little puddle on the road is frozen over. The bank is my halfway point, their sign shows me the temperature (this morning it was 31*) and tells me how much time I have before the train comes. At this point I either relax, or start jogging.
My favorite train conductor operates the back half of the 7:10 train. One day I forgot my cash for the ride home and he was angry, accused me of cheating the system, and told me that I better bring both fares next time. I think he had a bad day, because the next time I saw him he refused to take the three dollars I owed, smiled, and joked around with me.
Now when I see him he smiles at me and calls me the trouble maker.
This morning was no different. I adore my train ride to Belmont in the morning. The train is warm, and when I exit the smell of pine and Christmas from the city's tree farm envelopes me. Work is one block away. Upon entering I order my cup of coffee and relax for just a few moments before my shift begins.
Which is what I'm doing right now. Me, you, the New York Times, and my doubletallsoy latte.