This morning, I woke up five minutes before I usually leave the house for work. I got ready in ten minutes and raced out and all the way to work. When I got here, someone had made coffee, but I couldn’t find the cups. I haven’t been here long enough to know where these things are kept and couldn’t find anyone that wasn’t super busy and could tell me where they were. All I wanted was a cup of coffee.

Some days, a cup of coffee can wait and others, the thought of it is the only thing motivating me not to strangle the next person who looks at me. And God forbid, they are the reason that I don’t have that cup of coffee yet. Welcome to this morning.

I have had the “I woke up late” face on all day and am currently drinking cup of coffee number four. Nada. Not the slightest inclination that things will be looking up any time soon. My desk is covered in paperwork and I have no desire to even pretend to do it. And not because I don’t like my job, but because I want to be at home. In the shower. Sitting on the couch. Sleeping. Anything but this.

Because of the rushing this morning, I feel disorganized, ugly and just generally cranky. And now since Connie-Bob is gone for the day, I am bored too. I am just trying to convince myself to shine it on for thirty more minutes.