The Early Bird

I am an early morning person from way back. Well, at least as way back as my PA days at One Life to Live. With the insurance of multiple alarm clocks, I showed up bright-eyed at 7am dry rehearsal many days each week. It didn't much matter how late the last night had gone or how long the current day would go. Armed with my pile of scripts and schedules and with my stopwatch, I was ready to face late-arriving actors, energetic or grumpy directors, and everyone in between.
 
But I digress. This is not about rehearsal twenty-cough-cough years ago. It is, however, about the same idea--that of hitting the ground running, no matter what the time. Today, having breakfasted at around 5am, I found myself warming leftover spaghetti at 9:30. Who, you may ask, eats leftover spaghetti at 9:30am? Well, my kids would likely eat it any time of day. I just wanted it, and I promised myself that it would, at least in part, replace lunch. I wanted it. I wanted it then. And by golly, I enjoyed it.
 
Not five minutes after I had deposited my empty bowl in the dishwasher, my phone rang, asking me to come into work. Today. As soon as possible. As I rearranged my life and folded my (thankfully, because I'd started doing it so early) fresh out of the dryer laundry in preparation to go, I realized that I didn't need to pack a lunch because, lo and behold, I'd just had lunch. There had, I suppose, been a reason--not just that I'd wanted it--that I was eating spaghetti at 9:30 in the morning.
 
So you see, sometimes, the early bird catches the worm. And sometimes, the even luckier early bird catches the spaghetti.