On Monday Mornings, Resentfully

If you know me well enough, you know that I’m not exactly a ray of sunshine in the morning. Somewhere between the seventh and eighth blast of my alarm, I regain full consciousness and immediately decide that I hate everything. Then I roll around, mourning the coming day and wishing I was still asleep. (It’s ridiculous how much time I waste in the morning. If I could redirect that into something, like morning yoga, I’d be insanely productive. But that’d make way too much sense.)

By the time I hit the shower, I’m usually a much happier individual. There’s something about the powerful lure of water that invigorates me. This morning, soapy and quite content, I wanted to stay in the shower until the hot water ran out. But I didn’t, because as usual, I was running a bit late.

One thing I take for granted is my curly hair. I blow dry it and straighten it far too often. But I’m lucky. This morning, I ran out of the house with wet hair, holding a half-eaten banana and forgetting my coat. (I am Katie Barry, this was bound to happen – I’m horrible at dressing for the weather. Days when it’s cold, I’m coat-free and embracing spring. Days when it’s warm, I’m wearing tights and scarves and sweaters. Can’t win; no longer care.)

By the time I hit the halfway point of my commute, my hair had sprung into spirally curls. It’s wash and wear hair and it’s awesome. When I got to work, my hair looked like I’d spent time on it and my bleary eyes and dry skin had been (magically) transformed into something that looked less like Voldemort and more like normal Monday morning exhaustion. (Thank you, makeup bag, my most trusted companion.)

This week is off to a roaring start. First press release of December officially completed. Gift baskets are ready to go out. It’s all good.


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