I hadn't seen 7:30 in the morning since July. I still haven't. The fog was impenetrable. For the first time in many months, I woke up before 10am. But, I must say, Just Like You Imagined by the Nine Inch Nails remains unmatched as a wake up call in the cold foggy mornings of the Northern winter.
As I walked the lonely way to work at the early hour of eight in the morning, I felt different. I was something I hadn't done, ever. For the first time in as many months, I had breakfast. It later gave me an upset stomach. On the other hand, it was a brilliant time to come to work. There wasn't a soul in sight. I experienced my work place as I never had before. The complete silence, a little eerie at first, put me completely at ease. I thought of everything but the work, as I slipped on my headphones, letting the tunes from last.fm radio flow through me.
The amazed looks from my colleagues was what was most amusing. They saw me as if a ghost, while one even ventured enough to ask me whether I had actually left for the night the previous day. I had come to work a full four hours before my usual time. It was soon time for lunch, but I wasn't in the least bit hungry. But lunch wasn't what I looked forward to. It was the 15 minutes I spent with my friends after lunch that I looked forward to. The customary cigarette after a full lunch, the time spent with friends was for me a path to contentment. For those fifteen minutes in the afternoon, I am without a care in the world.
After lunch, I returned to my desk and for a comfortable hour I slept listening to music. As the clock ticked seven in the evening, it was time to leave for home. I knew that the evening would be a pleasant experience. Perhaps, I'll do this again someday. Come to work at eight in the morning. But not frequently. Because if I over-indulged, it would stop being the pleasant, comforting experience it was. Besides, I don't want my manager to think I had become the sort to come on time. He might expect me to do this everyday.