Is anyone even truly a person at 5:30 in the morning? You’re quite certain that you aren’t and that no matter how many times you punch that alarm clock and throw yourself into the shower, you never will be. Still, by 6:04, you’re dashing down the hallway, badly contained cup of coffee in one hand, purse in the other, makeup half assed simply so you feel human, and the most comfortable pair of flats you own on (the correct!) feet just to make it to the elevator so you won’t have to clamber down the stairs again. You’ve just managed to get all the things in your hands straight when the doors whoosh gently open.