5:35am - 2nd alarm goes off. At some point in my 20s I became paranoid about not getting up in the morning. Which my job wouldn’t even care about. And yet. Snooze.
5:39am - alarm 1. snooze.
5:44am - alarm 2. snooze.
6:00am - drag myself out of bed, dress.
6:15am - carry work bag, gym bag, lunch bag and usually at least 1 more bag out of apartment to my ’96 civic which is still doing just fine though the clutch took some serious wear and tear while I learned how to navigate the hills of SF (I am from a much flatter place).
6:20am - drive down 101, pretend to be annoyed that NPR is having a pledge drive and I’m being FORCED to listen to pop radio instead.
6:25am - sing at the top of my lungs to the latest pop mega-hit.
6:45am - arrive at the JCC of the peninsula, where I work out and then eavesdrop on the old ladies in the locker room who are arriving for their water aerobics class as I get ready for work. Ethel gets PISSED when someone takes her locker. Sally won’t shut up about the Giants.
8:30am - 6pm workworkworkworkworkworkwork.
6pm - decide its time to leave for the day.
7pm - leave for the day. Drive back to the city while re-working my original plan to drop car at home and take muni to dinner so I can still attempt to experience city living.
7:45-8pm - drive around the Mission looking for parking while texting (Siri-ing?) that I swear I’ll just be 5 more minutes.
8:15-10 pm - lovely dinner with good friends and good food.
10:15pm - arrive home, repack work bag, gym bag, lunch bag for tomorrow.
11:00pm - snuggle up with the 1000 pages of book 5 of Song of Ice and Fire
11:03pm - asleep.