These are the sorts of notices I never paid much heed to. The ones that say they are turning the water off in the building because of plumbing issues. The reminder to set aside extra water and do not, repeat, DO NOT turn anything on that will put air into the piping system.
Unless you are an apartment dweller, this isn't going to make much sense. But there are all sorts of things that go on during the day when you live in a large building. Much of which you don't pay attention to when your weekdays take you to a corporate office. I never did, mostly because these things happen between 9 and 5, or in today's case, 9:15 and 5. I was never home during those times Monday to Friday. I was at work. In the office.
I am still at work, except the office is now located between the bathroom and kitchen. So today I had to pay attention.
I set my alarm early so I could walk in the park. If I was going to get a shower afterwards, it had to be before the 9:15 cutoff. I had that rare glimpse into what my mornings used to look like. Jumping out of bed to the sound of an alarm, getting dressed quickly and rushing out the door.
It was still dark when I got into the park. I'd forgotten how much company there is in those early morning hours, all the other walkers and runners and bikers, squeezing in their exercise before the day starts. I hadn't seen the sunrise on the East side of the reservoir in a while. The early morning light reflects the changing colors of the leaves differently than the light later in the day. It was all as it had been, but I saw it differently.
By a quarter of eight, I had stopped by the farmer's market at 68th and Broadway and was back home making coffee when I wasn't filling extra pitchers with water. It felt good to have the early start, to step into a bit of the ritual that was my every day for so long. It felt even better to know that ritual is now a choice, that some days I can make and others not.