(this is a blog I wrote a few months back on my work blog site that I am repurposing here)
“BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!” Is it time to get up already?
After I finally muster the courage to set my feet on the floor and realign my body from horizontal to vertical, I often find myself immediately rushed — as I perceive most people in the morning are. We’ve got to get our coffee, our breakfast, let the dog out, get dressed… the list goes on and on. When I finally make it to my car to begin my 15-minute commute, it doesn’t take long to realize those 15 minutes will likely morph into 20 or 30. Again, I feel rushed. Especially with the
lovely unbearable Dallas-area traffic.
My car often sings at least one, “BEEP!” every morning to alert other rushed commuters that I, too, am in a hurry. The blaring country music temporarily slows the swirling of the mental to-do-list tornado inside my head.
I make it to work, park my car (that reminds me: I still need to get my oil changed), hustle into the office and plop down at my home-away-from-home and fire up the Dell. I then set fire to my keyboard by the speed at which my fingers are moving — a speed that Captain Kirk aboard the Starship Enterprise would be envious of.
I’m intermittently interrupted by a “BEEP!” of the phone sitting next to me or the knock of someone needing my
expert helpful opinion. When the phone call ends, or my filibusterous opinion is satisfied, it’s back to lighting fires.
Finally, I stand and dart away, immediately regretting the swiftness of my motion (did I stretch after softball last night?), and head to the printer, restroom or someone’s office. I Dodge, Duck, Dip, Dive, and Dodge people on my way to my destination better than a Gold-Medal Olympian. My mental tornado shouts, “BEEP!” as I obliterate the obstacle course of people along my personal yellow brick road to my destination.
I return to my desk when my stomach audibly and arguably alerts me that it’s time for lunch. As I take what seems like my first real “breather” of the day, it hits me:
My almost-instant “two-thirty feeling” has the 5-Hour Energy commercial added to my mind’s swirling vortex and I start to question the genesis of my exhaustion.
It began before the tornado. Before I even became vertical. Before the first “Beep.”
It’s time to slow down. Not right this second, but from before morning perpendicularity.
Instead of cursing the alarm clock for shouting at me to get my (beep!) in gear, take a breath and be thankful that my you-know-what was able to even have the opportunity to get out of bed this morning. Instead of my car singing its daily duet with other fellow rushers in the morning, drive The Texas Way and let other cars sing solo. Clear the mental skies and actually listen to the lyrics. Instead of rivaling a world-class athlete on American Gladiators while in the office, say, “Hello,” smile, and get to know my coworkers.
Let your beeps justify when you do something, not how you do something.
Oops. I almost forgot: it’s time for lunch. Beep!