Wake up, it's time to start preparing for a new day.

By Chaya Sandler

Are you a morning person? I’m not a morning person. You don’t want to see me before I’ve had a cup of coffee and a chocolate bar. No, not very nutritious, I know, but I need it to keep me, and those around me, sane. To compromise though, and to satisfy my mother, I grab one of her smoothie things before I run out the house. As I said, I’m not a morning person and I don’t do early rising. Twenty minutes before the tube leaves is plenty of time to stumble out of bed, wash my hands and face, pull on some vaguely respectable form of clothing, run a comb through my unruly tresses, down a coffee whilst pulling on my shoes, grab the aforementioned chocolate and smoothie and run for my life. Nothing like starting the day with a good jog.
I often wonder what my fellow travellers think of the crazy looking girl who runs, jumps and skids onto the tube just as the door slides shut. Indiana Jones, eat your heart out. And this is just the start of my day! I then pull out a girl’s best friend – a pocket mirror – and proceed to make myself look somewhat presentable with the aid of a girl’s other best friend – a hairbrush. How I manage every morning is with the help of humanity’s best friend – Hashem. Two stops later I meet my human best friend, and she will never know that I literally catch my breath only 10 seconds before she saunters onto the train, all fresh and chipper. Don’t you just hate morning people?
Then there’s my mother’s smoothies, but that’s a whole ‘nother thing.
Let’s just say that she’s a health nut and I never know precisely what will be in the neon gloop that I must drink every morning (no wonder I’m not a morning person). Hashem did not make kale and spinach in order to turn them into disgusting gloop that I often must drink. If he wanted to do that, He would have made them like coconuts. Since he didn’t, it is fairly obvious that he didn’t intend for innocent teenage girls to have to drink them. So why do I drink it? He also made mothers. Still, her strawberry ones are palatable, and the banana chocolate ones – heaven. You’ve probably guessed by now that I like chocolate.
The school bell sounds about as tired and weary as I am as it signals the dawn of a new day. I know exactly how you feel, buddy.
My morning cheer is never helped by the evil that is science during first period. Don’t get me wrong, I love science. For some insane reason I’m taking biology and bio-chemistry as A-levels, but for some even more insane reason, the school schedules them during the first period of the day!! Ugh.
The nearer we get to lunch, the more my brain kicks in. After lunch we have that sweetest of all things – music. I could get all soppy here, and I probably will, because music is my thing. I play the violin, the keyboard and the flute. I would say that whilst the violin is my skill, the flute is my soul. I warned you it would get soppy. My voice isn’t amazing, but the song is on my lips, in my hands and from my heart. It’s as if music bypasses the brain, and your soul and heart meld as one to produce the most sublime of all human capabilities – music.
The music A-level is actually quite technical. Only somewhere between half and two thirds of it is actually composing and performing, and the rest is all the technical stuff. I don’t mind that though. I suppose you could say I’m a little geeky – well, hey, two science A-levels is a pretty big clue.
Anyway, one fateful day we were told we had two weeks left to our mock. I had to perform a piece pretty soon, and an actual examiner, who owed a favour or two to my principal, was coming in to give his opinion. I poured my heart and soul into this composition. Of course I was closely following the guidelines, but you’re given quite a bit of free reign to compose. Every piece I play, especially when it’s an original composition, is a piece of me. A little piece of my soul. It’s counterintuitive, but I actually don’t like performing. To let someone else hear a little piece of me is like baring my soul to them. It’s so hard to reveal something so intimate and private; even a jolly little ditty is a part of me. To let someone in to myself is a risk. If a brain surgeon goes a quarter of a millimetre off mark, well he’s going to be stripped of his licence and sued for manslaughter. If someone missteps with my music and doesn’t like it or just isn’t particularly enamoured – it’s as if they’re stepping all over my soul. I don’t look at people whilst I play. I can’t.
Enough with the soppiness for now. I have to work on my composition. It’s really good. Yes, I’m biased, but you can judge yourself and deep down you do know whether something is good or not. I am good and so is this piece. I know so.
Also, I have a job interview tonight for next year – yikes! Scary. I sent off my CV, hoping it was at least semi-professional. They called me in for an interview so I suppose they must have liked it, but what do I say?? It’s so nerve-wracking, and yet this is precisely the time that I need to be the most confident! I’m this little kid really, just playing at being grown up, and now life is shoving me out into the big wide world with no one to hold my hand.
Still, at least the interview is in the afternoon. Did I mention that I’m not a morning person?