My weekday mornings start at 5:30 AM. I wake up (or try to do so), and take a shower. It's early, so it's not frigid like it usually is; instead, it's warm because I've beaten everyone to the shower. I take that warm shower and immediately I'm energized. I sing in the shower now, and I never used to. I am anxious to wake up, almost. I leave the house around 7:00, and I'm out of Bath by 7:15. I can't wait for those hours to strike. I can't wait to make the hop over the Sagadahoc Bridge and into Woolwich, over the barrier of home and into the professional world that I've been foaming at the mouth for. I can't wait to keep doing what I've fought and clawed at, I can't wait to just jump in every morning without dragging my feet and wanting to whine. I get to the plant at about 7:50, and my friend Elizabeth follows at around 7:55, since she lives but a few minutes away. It's good to be able to heckle the person that shared two-and-a-half years of college misery with you. It's good not to worry that you'll lose touch with yet another person that's meant something to you, because she'll probably end up telling you that you need to reword your sentence or fix your spelling or that you just sound like a bonehead because you thought the 'pivot point' on a pendulum is a 'fulcrum'. And come 4:30, I almost don't want to leave. It's Lenz's Law: as I get ready to head out, I notice that I still have some work to do for tomorrow, and I almost don't want to head out. I almost stop myself and try to keep working. But as I make my way to the door with Elizabeth, it gets easier and easier, until I punch my card and realize that I just made eighty-four dollars doing that which I have come to absolutely love. I drive home, and the commute is relaxing. I do 65 on Route One heading into the little fishing villages that chose to park themselves in the little grooves in the water. There's just that amount of traffic that I can look around, breathe the air, and not worry about things. I can be home before 5:30, see Shannon in the daylight, get sleep before 11:00 for once. And that's the most important part. I don't have to wait until 8:00 to see Shannon. We aren't deprived of each other, we don't have to depart because we're tired. Tonight, she took me home because eventually, we were bored. But the time was enjoyable, and I loved every minute. The bad part is that I still work at the Shack. I've begun to notice the negative effect that place has on my life. I didn't have a good weekend. My manager left me alone in the store twice, I was tired, I got out late, I got pissed at Shannon and she got pissed at me for something incredibly inane, although I thought it was important at the time. I constantly curse the presence of customers in my store, I sit and wait for the next moment when I can laugh at someone for their ignorance. It's not a good way to be. I just twiddled my thumbs and waited for the week, when I could be happy with what I was doing again. So, in my office, I have an old picture of Shannon and me from 2001. I was thinner, dressed in a jet-black uniform, and she was beautiful, like she is now, in a green and purple shirt. We're holding each other and happy, like we've always wanted to be. Circumstance just hasn't given us much chance this past year. It's always been hard work and sour experiences with people and work, and that sets our fuses off. It wasn't like that then, and I have a feeling that it won't be like that much longer, if it is at all now. I also have a poster of every physics major's Uncle Albert, Albert Einstein, who speaks his wisdom to me every day when I arrive. I breeze through my day and I laugh when it's over, and for once, I can finally say I look forward to tomorrow.