My alarm goes at 5.30am. I get out of bed without thinking about it. Otherwise, I just wouldn’t. I turn on the computer and brush my teeth. I write in my pyjamas, one eye being creative, one eye on the time. At 6, I put on my gym gear, then my sweatpants and jumper, then my coat, hat and gloves. I double-check what I have packed from last night: my work clothes, yoga gear, book and lunch. I remember to put in my shoes. Water and a towel.
I leave the sleeping house, lock the front door. It’s dark but not completely quiet; there are others up and about too. It’s cold. I walk fast. At 6.40 I’m at the gym, and by 6.45 I’m on my stationary bike. For 75 minutes, I ignore the time and follow the instructor. At 8am exactly, I’m off my mat. Shower, dress and I put back on my trainers. They don’t match my black tights but they help me walk faster. I am back outside by 8.10. I run down the trail with my backpack. Coming onto the road, I start walking. Fast. I cut through the streets. A Japanese couple ask me if I am going to school. I laugh, and say no, not in many years. The lights are in my favour and I cross the road straight away. I arrive at 8.20. I am at work before my boss. I change my shoes and wait.
My Tuesday mornings.