Morning Madness

"Morning is an important time of day, because how you spend your morning can often tell you what kind of day you are going to have." — Lemony Snicket
My mornings are hectic. I've tried waking up at various times, preparing lunches, outfits, and book bags the night before; but regardless of my careful plans, something always goes wrong in the morning. My blow dryer only burns out, filling the bathroom with the smell of burnt hair, IN THE MORNING when my hair is still wet. My sons only realize they must take the all-white (insert soccer or lacrosse here) uniform (the mud-splattered one that is still in the dirty clothes basket) to school that day IN THE MORNING. I remember, IN THE MORNING, that I parked the car on near-empty the night before and must make time to stop at the gas station on my way to work. The dog only rolls in something vile smelling on her MORNING walk.
This morning, I had to be at school even earlier than usual; and I had to stop at Chick-Fil-A on my way to work in order to pick up a platter of chicken mini biscuits for student council breakfast. I ordered the platter yesterday; but, of course, since it was MORNING, the platter was not ready. I waited impatiently by the register. How long did it take to throw some tiny breakfast sandwiches together? They had had 24 hours notice. I paced in place, rocking from one foot to the other. It did not make time go by any faster. To distract myself, I watched other people going about their morning.
An older gentleman sat at a booth, enjoying his breakfast while reading the newspaper. I heard a member of the wait staff call him by name. He regularly had time to eat a leisurely breakfast at Chick-Fil-A? I felt overcome with jealousy.
A husband and wife stood at the condiment counter, helping themselves to coffee creamers. The napkin dispenser was empty. Neither of them thumped the top of the obviously empty dispenser nor did they whip around frantically, searching for someone, anyone, to hand them a paper towel. Instead, they waited patiently for an available cashier and asked politely for some extra napkins. Why weren't they rushing? I was filled with admiration.
So it wasn't just mornings in general, I thought to myself, when, several minutes later, I was hustling out of Chick-Fil-A, balancing a tray of chicken sandwiches. I had only moments to get to school before student council members would be waiting at my door unsupervised. Some people actually had relaxing mornings. I marveled at the thought.
"That should be my goal," I whispered wistfully, as I whipped into a parking space and ran full-speed into the building, sloshing coffee on my sweater in the process.
Forget about travel or a second career, "I will have a calm and peaceful MORNING...when I retire."