9:39.
The sun has already been elevated high above my street, and I stand up.
The birds have long since left to be replaced by pedestrians,
Some sauntering past, some rushing to get to heaven knows what.
But my brain is filled with calculations.
Can I brush my teeth in time?
Perhaps eat an apple?
Class is in six minutes,
A year ago meaning such a different thing.
But now six minutes is nine times more than two, especially before math.
Filled with an hour-long list of minute possibilities, each taking a minute,
Pushing me to pick them,
My brain scrolls through them, looking for the correct ones.
I click on the meeting link when I find it.
9:45.
Time for math.