My alarm went off at six-forty-four this morning, which surprised me. Not because I didn’t know it would go off at that time, since I’d set it the night before, but the sound of my alarm jolted me awake. It was a feeling I experienced every morning, all the ones I set my alarm for, anyway, and this morning was no different.
After I took a shower and put on clean pajamas, I signed into my work computer. I always get a little flustered as I wait for my laptop to boot up, sure that an email will have come in during the hours I wasn’t logged on that described either a problem I had caused or one I was assigned to fix. This morning, the only email waiting for me when my laptop finally came to life was a message from my manager congratulating my coworkers and I on work well done on our latest project.
I made coffee, enough for two, and looked for something for breakfast. I’d eaten oatmeal the last five days and was loathing another morning of it, wishing I’d gone for more variety on the last trip to the store. I longed for a small bowl of vanilla yogurt, and when I pulled open the fridge, a container I must’ve forgotten about was waiting for me just behind the pickles. I scooped about a cup’s worth into a bowl, then poured myself a cup of coffee with creamer. My water bottle also sat on the counter, and I debated whether I should make two trips to my desk to be sure I didn’t drop the hot coffee, water, or yogurt on the way from the kitchen. In the end, I managed to carry everything at once, and sat down to get ready for my morning meeting.
The workday, like most of them, lasted about nine hours, give or take. The final thirty minutes I found myself trying to remember what I had on hand to make for dinner – after the yogurt and coffee, I’d snacked on a handful of cashews and then a can of premade soup for lunch. I wanted to cook something for dinner rather than have another meal from a container, but I was sure that the box of rice I’d purchased a month earlier was nearly gone, and the potatoes I’d made over the weekend were already bad.
I checked my email one more time, then locked my computer and wracked my brain for what I would make for dinner if there wasn’t enough rice. Turn the potatoes into mashed, maybe? But then I’d need milk, and I wasn’t sure mine was still good. I opened the fridge and then pulled out the carton of milk, wrinkling my nose as I prepared to sniff, but the pleasant, unassuming scent of unspoiled dairy met my nose. There were two sticks of softened butter, too, and, as I mentioned, plenty of potatoes.
But the mashed potatoes were a backup plan, and my stomach had already prepared for a rice and potato plate. I sighed and shook my head as I turned to the pantry and opened the door, expecting my eyes to land on the nearly empty container of rice.
To my surprise and delight, there were at least two cups of rice left – plenty for a hearty dinner for two. I pulled the rice from the pantry and set it on the counter and set to making dinner. While it was heating, I pulled out my phone.
A suggestion popped up on the screen: Turn on 6:44 alarm? it asked.
Sure, I thought, why not?