I had late night calls with out teams in Asia last week, so I worked from home the extra days.
This matters because it’s been a while since I commuted. It also matters because I had turned off my office-day alarms. No one wants to work until nearly 11pm and then get up before 5am.
Fortunately (by grace) I was given the thought to check the alarm status just before I drifted off last night. Alarms on. Good to go.
Ugh. It feels less good to go come morning.
Alarm. Turned off. Momentary inclination to turn it off half asleep.
No, no. Up. Must get up.
Out of bed, bleary. Downstairs, coffee on. Upstairs, teeth, shower, clothes, hair dried. Downstairs, coffee in travel mug, lunch packed, shoes on, badge on, jacket on, phones stowed, laptop bag, lunch bag, keys, door, stairs…
I watch my feet on the stairs. It’s early, I’m tired, the extra weight a potential for failures of equilibrium. The stairs are silver in the dark, reminiscent of ice. Months away from that, God willing.
I pause before the second set of stairs, look up.
It’s night still. A clear, cool night. Orion stares down as I look up.
Then down into the car, the arrangement of belongings, phones, dew but not ice on windows, and so begins the drive.
Slow conversions en route, from night to dark morning, to bruises of color, to lighter skies and pink clouds, to the clearance of the sun, red and round over the treeline, as I am in the final miles before arrival.
In a few weeks I won’t see the sun, just the signs of it coming.
A few weeks after that, and my entire commute will be dark.
Changing skies, changing seasons.