My second alarm clock begins to wail at approximately 6:01. She, unlike my ol' reliable clock, does not include a snooze button and would certainly object, and rather loudly I imagine, to being thrown anywhere. She is fuzzy and hungry and impatient. I call her Molly Kittenclaws and, as second alarms go, she's a pretty efficient one.
Today, though, today was especially difficult. The time change on Sunday throws everyone off. Statistically, it is the worst day of the year to commute. We groggy working folk pull ourselves out of bed at what seems to be an ungodly hour, an hour before our brains are even ready to think about waking up, drown our sorrows in giant mugs of coffee, and head out to face the day. In the dark. On a Monday.
What's this? It's raining, too? Sigh.
These tired and drizzly days, however, are the ones that show us our true character. It's EASY to whistle and smile and offer kindness to others when the sun is shining and the birds are singing, when it isn't a Monday, or you haven't lost an hour of sleep, when you aren't driving to work in the dark on a slick stretch of congested highway. But what would that tell us about ourselves?
It's THESE days-- days when I am especially tired, when the demands of work and home are an ever-present ringing in my ears, when Molly Kittenclaws is demanding her kibble in an unnatural octave, when all I want to do is cover my head with blankets and wait for Tuesday-- these are the days that show me what I'm truly capable of: perseverance, dedication, optimism, strength, humor, and gratitude.
Today's Gratitude List: