Starts like this.

My room is bathed with sunlight and it wakes me up before my alarm has a chance to go off. I listen to a few enlightening podcasts on as I get dressed. My hair is perfect.

I walk into the back balcony, lined with my father's orchids. His 3rd child. I check to see if the roses have bloomed yet. Little buds still, like presents.

On my way out the door, my father lovingly hands me my breakfast (I am a grown adult, but my father insists on cooking me breakfast and I am delighted at this little perk) and my little brother so kindly left me a tall ice tea in the fridge.

There is no traffic going into to work and all the songs I play in my car, no matter how many times I've played them before, sounds like I am listening to them for the first time. I find the perfect parking spot, not too far from the elevator.

I arrive before everyone else in the office and get to enjoy the silence for a moment and inhale deeply, before the chaos of the day ensues like it does every day.

These are rare days, but when they occur, I savor each second.

Summer has a way of getting you to fall in love with it each and every year, and then cruelly disappearing behind fall foliage and cold white blanket of winter.

I want to know about your perfect morning.