PSA: Probably don't put eggs in the microwave.

Routine

You wake up as the alarm rings at 6:25. You get up - the alarm clock is on the other side of the room, so that you're not tempted to snooze it and go back to sleep. You push the Cancel and Alarm 1 button, blow a kiss to your husband still half asleep, and get out of the bedroom.

Bathroom: first pit stop, then shower. It's an even day, you don't need to wash your hair today. You climb in the bathtub, open the water, wait for it to be at the right temperature, pull the small lever, and the water comes out of the showerhead. You look at the range of shower gel on the bathtub shelf: you're in the mood for grapefruit today. You wash your chest, your arms. You get one foot and then the other on the border of bathtub to wash your legs. You get out of the shower, careful not to slip, put a large towel around you, dry your feet enough to not put water everywhere, move to the kitchen.

You check the level of water in the coffee machine: there's enough. You open the small hatch on top of the coffee machine, drop a purple capsule in it. You fetch your favorite bowl, white ceramic with yellow and blue fruit drawings, and put it below the coffee machine tube. You open the fridge, grab the ham and cheese, an egg. You swear as your hand hits the top shelf and you drop the egg. You fetch some paper towel, you clean the mess. This time when you get another egg, you actually get the box out of the fridge, you put it on the counter, you get your egg, and you put the box back in the fridge. You lay a slice of cheese on a slice of ham, you stuff everything in a small ramekin, you break the egg in the remaining space. You poke a single hole in the yolk with a knife: you really don't want your egg to explode in the microwave again today. You put the ramekin in the microwave, you note the time - 6:43, the egg thing made you lose three minutes. You set the microwave to 2 minutes and 10 seconds, and as you exit the kitchen, you flick the hatch of the coffee machine, and the coffee starts pouring in the bowl.

You're in your corridor now, you quickly get dressed in the dark with the clothes you had prepared on the previous evening and dropped on the floor. Underwear, jeans, t-shirt. You grab the pair of socks and put it on your desk: that's a task for later. The microwave beeps just as the coffee stops pouring. The beep of the microwave doesn't stop when you open the door: it will beep thrice, whatever you do. Things they don't think of mentioning when you buy appliances. You grab an oven glove, grab your ramekin, transfer its content to a small plate, add some mayo next to it - the mayo makes all the difference between being hungry at 10:45 and being hungry at 11:30. You grab your plate and some cutlery in one hand, the coffee bowl in the other, and walk to your desk. You swear again: the desk is still quite cluttered, and you didn't push your keyboard yet to be able to put your food in front of it without risk. You try to carefully push everything, manage to not do any catastrophe, and sit at your computer. It's 6:48.

You now have 19 minutes to catch up with what happened on the internet during the night, and to handle a few administrative tasks. 7:08, you're late on your schedule, you swallow the end of your tepid coffee. You put on your socks, and back to the bathroom for teeth and hair brushing. You don't hear your husband arrive next to you and you get startled when you hear "good morning" 10 centimeters from you. An apology, a laugh, a hug and a kiss later, it's definitely time to hurry. 7:15, you put on your shoes.

7:17, you're out of the apartment.