It’s 5.58am. I’m two minutes from going on air to present a breakfast radio show. I’ve already eaten a bowl of shreddies, drunk three cups of tea and checked all my emails, Twitter, Facebook and showbiz websites. A rolling news channel is on the telly above my head.
But while I scribble on my prep sheet, my mind can’t help wandering for thirty seconds.
I’m thinking of my nearly 2 year old daughter, probably still asleep in her cot. I’m thinking of my snoring husband, oblivious of the sunshine and the need to get the washing on the line before he leaves to do the childminder drop-off and make his own way to work. And I’m thinking of the fact I forgot to text my neighbour and ask her to collect a parcel from the post office before it closes this afternoon.
I look down and realise I’m wearing odd socks. And there’s a sudocrem mark on my shirt. This is what happens when you get up for work in the middle of the night and aren’t organised enough to put out your clothes the evening before. Anything goes at 3.30am.
But at least the sun was shining on the way into work this morning. And at least I now get to see the sun come up as I drive along the motorway Monday to Friday.
And then the light goes on. “Morning”, I say into the microphone.
It’s now 8.30pm and I really need to go to bed. But I couldn’t resist the theme for The Gallery this week. Head over to Sticky Fingers to see the rest.