I am not a morning person. I know people who love to get up bright and early. They love to hear the birds chirping, the cool breeze on their faces, the utter simplicity and calmness of the morning and the breathtaking sunrise that marks each new day. They love the smell of unadulterated, pollution-free (compared to the rest of the day) air and how the colors of nature seem so vivid and alive in the early hours of the day. Me, I'd rather stay in bed for 5 more minutes.
I am the last one to get up. My wife and son are ready by the time I am done brushing my teeth. My son is almost six now and has quite a vocabulary, Al Hamd O Lillah. Most of the words he learnt are from the many storybooks he loves reading...to me. (Yes, in my house, it's the other way round. My son reads to me at bedtime...but I still tuck him in! :) ) At this point he's saying, "Abu, don't make me late today. I don't like standing in the late line. I want to stand in my own class' line." And I am like "Don't worry...I'll get you to school on time, insha Allah." "But you said that yesterday too and we were late!", he insists. You just can't win with kids!
I drop them off at school, still rubbing sleep out of my eyes. Driving at a leisurly pace, I pick up a few of my collegues on my way to work. While the rest of my car is alive with conversation, I am busy figuring out the road network so I don't miss the office exit like yesterday. Finally we arrive at the office. We just made it from being late. The rest of my collegues head off to their respective offices and begin their days. I head on to the coffee machine. The caffine jolts me back to life. I can actually hear my mental machinery shift to a higher gear with each sip. Finally, I can begin my work.