I leapt out of bed, much to the irritation of Galahad, who was happily purring beside me, and rushed around the house like a madwoman, getting ready for work.
I did it. I managed to get to work a mere two minutes late. I'm impressed with me. I honestly wish I was still in bed, though. I'm not in the best state. I'm fatigued, have a monster headache, and am pretty stuffed up. I honestly just want to be back in bed, sleeping. Maybe I'll be able to catch a few minutes of napping during lunch hour today.
As far as days go, it's just one of many. A perfectly ordinary day, if a little stressful.
That's really more or less the point. Every day is relatively ordinary. There isn't really anything magical about any profession. Even the ones that seem like they'd be glamorous and exciting. You see, generally, just the carefully curated lives, the sanitised, highly edited glimpses into worlds you don't really know anything about. What you don't see is the other stuff. The hours of travelling in uncomfortable, cramped places. The lack of privacy. The long hours of work just for that perfect moment. That stuff is kept hidden.
The image is skewed.
Life, no matter what you're doing with it, is always quite ordinary.
Even if people are carefully editing it to make it look something other than ordinary.
And on that note, I'm going to find a way to do my work with my eyes closed.