Before the alarm clock has a chance to chirp its lovely morning jazz melody, my eyes pop open.

No alarm clock needed for this middle aged woman accustomed to early mornings and early bedtimes.

Quietly, I make it to the coffee maker to wake it up.

Waiting for what seems like eternity, I finally see the coffee is brewed up and ready to pour.

Tiptoeing to the front door, I open the door and barely let the door close behind me as to not wake a soul.

This time. This time is mine and mine alone.

As usual, I was in a hurry.

I pulled up to get gas a few weeks ago, and scurried out of my car. Fumbling with the credit card machine on the pump, finally, on the second go around, it gave me the go ahead to start pumping.

I hate getting gas.

It’s a thorn in my side.

This particular day, I was already running late.

I have a plant that just won’t die.

No matter how much I neglect it, forget to water it, it will LIVE.

A friend gave me this plant for my birthday a few years ago.

Giggling when she handed it to me, I said, ‘You realize that this will die in 3 days at my house. Plants do not survive around me.”

My sweet friend replied, “Jill, just water it every once in a while and it will live. I promise.”

Skeptically, I took the plant and I am being dead serious here, almost threw it in my big green outside garbage can when I arrived back home.