Like any other day, I woke up half-asleep. The three alarms on my cell phone had failed to spur me out of bed. After prolonging the inevitable, a further 15 minutes, I grudgingly left the warmth and safe security of my blankets to start my morning routine. I stood in the shower, hot water at full blast, cleansing the cold that had seeped into my bones in the brief walk from the bed to the shower. Then came the bagel in the toaster and out the door I went.
The drive to work is one ritual that I had completed too many times to count. Start my car, turn off the automatic air-conditioning, and press play on my ipod. As I pulled out of the driveway and made my way behind morning rush-hour, I looked to my left and saw an all too familiar scene. Like me, the driver to my left was rubbing the sleep out of his tired eyes and concentrating on reducing the distance between him and the freeway as fast as humanly possible. After about ten minutes of stop and go, I finally reached the ramp onto highway 101. Here I was greeted with groggy morning commuters who did not seem to understand that going fifty-five or less on a sixty-five speed limit is just plain rude. And slower traffic should have the common courtesy to take the right most lanes. At the same time, I had to dodge the over-eager ones who thought sticking as close to the rear bumper as possible would somehow inspire me to go faster. As a testament to the inefficiency and sheer recklessness of this technique, there was an accident almost daily. Thirty stressful minutes later, I got off my exit and cruised the rest of the way uneventfully, to work.
From exiting the freeway until I reached work was the only time of day that I had no worries in life. There was nothing to stress or worry about. The stress from the freeway melted away. Replaced only by pure bliss from enjoying a fresh start to a new day, the windows rolled down, savoring the amazing mid-sixties California weather.
"Start every day as if it had its own purpose"
My boss and mentor, repeatedly reminded me of this mantra. Nevertheless, I believed and still to this day, believe it to be easier said than done. And thus, soon came to realize just how easy it was to be entrapped by routine; only looking forward to the end of work day, then the end of the work week. I had unwittingly slipped into a mindset of living for the weekend without appreciating the gift of every new day.
Why wouldn't I want to get out quickly and painlessly to freedom? After all, this was a job. I was paid to show up promptly, everyday by 9 am; then, 9 hours later, clock out at 6 pm. Although I was paid for 8 hours, most days I would arrive at home just as my clock would turn 10 pm.
However, there is truth to the statement. We should appreciate every day. We do not know when our mortality will catch up. One sunrise, we will get up and unknowingly, will not live to see another. With the risk of sounding extreme, unlikely, or extremely unlikely, it is true. I do not know what day will be my last. Logic would reason that based on this conclusion, I would strive to live every day to the fullest. Realism strikes with the result of falling into complacency.
As the day progressed, I did my work. I was 20 years old, and I was alone.
