I'm Abe Wolfgang, an Electrical Engineer, writer, Father, husband, and full-time lover of story. I blog about those stories, how they impact us as humans, and why they are important. Occasionally I write my own as well.

My Morning

I thought that I would narrate a typical morning. This may not interest you, and you may have much more important things to do or read so by all means carry on if that is the case. I don't claim to be the most interesting man in the world. I don't, after all, bowl overhand or influence foreign policy due to my small talk, or even win trophies based on my game face. I'm just a normal guy. So, without further ado… The alarm on my iPhone plays at 6:00AM, but that doesn't startle me awake. I have already been up since 5:45 because of Evan's crying. This is bitter sweet, since he slept the whole night (or at least most of it) and is just now waking up. I probably went to bed a bit too late, so I'm still tired. Either way, there is no pulling the covers back over my head and wishing the day away. The morning has no regard for my desire to sleep in, or for how tired I am. All it cares about is that the sun will now come up and people will begin to expect things from me. Morning is relentless like that.

So I shed the blankets, throwing my legs over the side of the bed, and hoist myself to my feet. My target is usually to be out of the house by 7:30, which will see me to work by 7:50-8:00. Perfect. I listen for Evan to settle down, his cries quieting and becoming more spaced out as he finds his hands to suck on. The blessing of children is that they are so cute, otherwise they would absolutely drive you insane. I'm glad that he has quieted, since that means I can make my morning lap around the small pond near our home.

I bundle up in a hoodie, coat and beanie and burst forth into the brisk March air (why is it still so cold?). The sky is still dark at this hour, so I rely on street lights and the small path lights by the pond to guide me. It is also quiet, since many have not started their morning commute, so I feel as though I have the morning to myself. I pensively walk the lake, preparing my mind for the day ahead. I have found that morning exercise is very therapeutic, and before you say that you absolutely would not be able to wake up early to exercise, know that I am the opposite of a morning person. If you have met my wife, it might not surprise you to learn that she is the quintessential morning person. She wakes up smiling, singing, and might even begin to tickle you if it is Saturday and you are trying to get some extra rest in. I'm the opposite of that.

As I walk my shadow seems to dance, passing from one light post to the next, sweeping across buildings and fences. By the time I have arrived back at the front door my nose is cold and running. I have a growing anticipation for a pot of coffee that will be brewing shortly. The walk usually only takes me thirty minutes to complete, which leaves me about an hour to get ready for the day. I make myself some form of breakfast, depending on my mood. I don't eat cereal because of the carbs, but it's ok with me if you like cereal and have it every day. I won't judge.

Lunch is packed, quick shower taken, work clothes donned, then I kiss my wife and baby goodbye and head out the door once more. My car is modest, a storm gray Saturn Ion, manual transmission (oh, yes). As I turn the ignition, engine roaring to life, my audiobook resumes from where I had left off last evening. Jack Ryan is still hunting down terrorists with his team from the Campus (ten points if you can identify the book). The drive into work has become much more pleasant of late, since some of the traffic bottlenecks have been fixed. My drive is only about 15 to 20 minutes in the morning.

My office sits inside of a single story building, large corporate badge plastered on the outer wall. Across the street is a small pond, geese or ducks slowly crossing or splashing. Just beyond the pond I can see cars speeding up and down route 28, painting a stark contrast from the pond and wildlife just in front. There are trees, but they seem somewhat out of place around all of this concrete and noise. A large airliner passes overhead on approach to the airport. It is so close that I can almost make out the passengers that are anxiously gazing out the windows at the ground below. The office is usually quiet when I arrive, full of dark offices and fresh brewed coffee in the break room, but it won't be long before it is full of engineers bustling about working on some project or another. Time for me to do the same.

James Straver - Part Two

A Gift From Dad and Mom