I woke up late today.

As I was scrambling to get a cup of coffee, figure out what to wear and run out the door, I took a moment to stop.

I listened to the rain.

I sat down and realized that running late isn’t all that bad. It wasn’t bad at all.

As the rain fell I pondered the millions of people who don’t have clean drinking water.

While thinking about what to wear I realized that there are millions upon millions of folks who do not have a wardrobe to choose from. Some kiddos wear the same untidy clothes to school each day, if they’re lucky enough to go to school.

Once I figured out what I was going to wear I said out loud to myself, “Wait, do I wear socks with heels since it’s raining? Is that weird?”

… I did it anyway. I’m weird and embrace that. After all, musician Michael Franti says “All the freaky people make the beauty of the world.”

Okay, so here I am. An hour late, on New Berlin Gazette morning. Rather than rushing and adding more stress to my already stressful life, I opted to sit and breathe.

I chose to be mindful.

I grabbed a coat, even though I don’t wear coats. I grabbed an extra pair of socks, that happen to be brand new since I just bought a pack. I grabbed a sweatshirt.

I realized that I have no idea who I will cross paths with today, and who might be thinking, “Man, I wish I had some dry socks.”

Now, I’m not going to get all political with this, because I could, and argue that said person with wet feet should go buy their own socks, but come on now … we’re all human, and a pair of socks (likely) hasn’t hurt too many people.

I grabbed everything I needed for the day, plus an extra notebook in preparation to sit in on the murder trial that’s currently underway, and got to my car.

I started it and the gas light was on. My car predicts 30 miles to go until empty. Yes, yes … I know it’s not good for your engine to let it get that low, but hey … I’ve been busy.

Rather than freak out about the fact that I have minimal gasoline, I took in a breath of gratitude.

I walked out of my house. Think about how many people sleep under bridges or on sidewalks. I have a roof over my head and a dry place to sleep.

I left that home and walked to the car I own outright and even though it doesn’t have much gas, it’s more than so, so many people can say.

During the 20 minute drive to the office I thought about everything I would have to get done in a shorter window of time than usual. I refuse to be late on deadline, regardless of if I’m late or not.

Then, I realized the date. Today is September 30, 2015.

Today marks my two year anniversary as Managing Editor of Chenango County’s Hometown Daily: The Evening Sun. And while yes, every couple months I might oversleep and arrive to the office late, I have a job. The best job in the world. I create. I write. I make white space disappear, and add some in when I want wiggle room.

I get to make blank pages every day. I then fill those blank pages with content. National content, Staff Writer content, contributor content, and occasionally my own.

My first call every day at the office is from a funeral director. This is something I’ve come to expect and it’s been normalized. It’s helped me to realize even more that we’re all going to die, and learning how to live for a living is the exciting part.

So here we go, two years down, which is 522 newspapers, two Progress Chenango sections and countless other feature sections … here I am.

A little late, but ready to take on the world.