Sunrises

Before the banal bullshit begins. Before the daily tedium. There's the chirping of the birds, rousing from their sleep. The sound of my cat's paws hitting the windowsill, eyes and ears piqued, tracking the sound. I listen closely for a moment; there's not another sound. Sunrise. Drink it in. Revel in it's tranquility. Wallow in the comfort it offers. It's the last bit of peace you're going to have all fucking day.

We have 60,000 thoughts in a day, it's been said. Ninety-eight percent of them are the same as the ones we had yesterday, and same as the ones we'll have tomorrow. And they are laced with our anxieties, our stresses, spite, pettiness, and our self-doubt. Soon the mental conversations that we have each day--all day-- will begin.

Soon the suffering begins. Gotta go to work. Don't wanna go to work. Maybe I'll call in. No, I'll feel bad if I call in. Plus, I'll have to deal with______(insert the name of your resident office asshole here). So you climb out of bed, slumping to the shower as you cast a baleful look at your reflection in the mirror. Thinking about all of the shit you have to accomplish today at work. All the same conversations that you will be involved in today. And how much they resemble the conversations you had last Tuesday, and the Tuesday before that and on and on until it's painfully close to an infinite regression.

Then somewhere it hits you: alarm clock, shower, coffee, dress, commute, insipid office politics, sandwich, more insipid office politics, bitch about commute, dinner, and television. You wonder what it's all about. Is this what you're going to be doing until you're old enough to collect social security? Then will you sit there and suddenly wonder where you put your life, like it's your car keys? Trading hours of your life, each day, for a certain price. Is that what it's really all about? Wondering what other people think of you? Buying shit on television that we don't need? Dealing with issues that don't matter? I can't answer these questions, but I do think the answer lies somewhere in moments like sunrises. Because if you don't take the time to appreciate those moments, one day you're going to be staring into your colostomy bag wondering if you really lived your life, or if you let everyone else live it for you.