It’s barely 9 am, and it’s already been one of those mornings. When my eyes popped open around 7:20 due to one of my awesome anxiety-filled dreams, I was surprised to see that K wasn’t already up and at ’em since he has an 8:20 class. So I woke him up and decided that since I was already awake (that kind of startled awake that isn’t easy to fall back asleep from), I’d get my day started, too.
Since K was running late, I offered to make him my own version of the Egg McMuffin, mostly because I have so much fun making it. And this is when it all went downhill. First, I went to grab an egg out of the egg carton, and it broke. No biggie, just a little annoying, because now there was broken egg in the egg carton and on the other eggs. Barely recovered from this snafu, I went to get the salt and pepper out of the cupboard when the ceramic salt shaker fell out of my hand and onto the water glass that was on the kitchen counter, shattering both. At this point K entered the kitchen, cracked egg, salt all over the stove and the floor, and broken class and ceramic mixed in, wondering what the hell was going on. Somehow, I managed to make the Egg McMuffin, albeit slightly burnt, and clean up (hopefully) all of the glass.
Mornings like this are rarely followed by good days. I should’ve just stayed in bed.