A school day. I awaken against my will to the kisses of our German Shepherd hours before I had to get up.
Ignoring her wouldn’t help – Lucy would cry and cry for me to get up and let her outside to lie in the first rays of sunshine.I open the back door and watch her stand there. She would cry to go out, but it was rare that she ever actually did without some assistance. I flail my arms and coax her, but nothing helps. The only thing that persuades her to step over the threshold is our older dog, Mimi, who doesn’t usually want to go out this early. She’s a small miniature schnauzer, but she’s feisty.
Finally I get them outside and go back to bed, which never lasts long. In about five minutes Mimi will be done with the outdoors and bark to come inside. I can’t bring one in without the other, so sleep is essentially gone for the day.
After letting my girls in, Lucy looks at me, walks into the kitchen, sits, and stares at me again. I know exactly what she wants – a cookie (dog treat). We somehow got into the habit of giving her one every day. Now she expects it. If she isn’t given her cookie in the morning she won’t act like herself.
The girls get their cookies, and I return to bed too awake to fall asleep, yet too tired to do anything with myself.
In about half an hour, alarms screech around the house. Everyone gets ready to go about their day. I can hear the fridge door open and shut, then the front door. Mom has left.
Fifteen minutes later I drag myself out of bed. My brother and I cross paths several times, sometimes when I have a toothbrush in my mouth. Then he fixes his lunch and leaves.
I was next. All I had to do now is fix my smoothie and lunch and head out the door. I drag my numerous items to the car: smoothie, water bottle, lunch, book bag, purse, and whatever else I think I need for the hour drive to school. Despite the long commute, I somehow manage to make it to class early. At least, when I had classes I enjoy.
The commute should seem long, but it’s typical for me. An hour and fifteen minutes to the city where I take classes at my university. Not exactly the typical American student, but it saves money, and I manage. Usually during the drive I listen to radio or pray, or just stare at the road until my mind turns it to nothing and I zone out into my own thoughts.
Classes make me think, but not how they were meant to. Instead of pondering about Jane Austen and Wollstonecraft, I think about my life.
Why aren’t I learning in here? Why am I at college? What is college? What is life?
It is here that the morning ends.
As She Writes 