Like, not even coming close to achieving what you were trying SO HARD to achieve?
This devastating situation happened to me a few days ago.
Here's what went down...
I get up early in the morning and go to the gym.
Like 4:40am early.
I realize that this is not normal, but "normal" is not what I am nor what I try to be.
Anyway, when my alarm goes off at 4:40am, I can't turn it off fast enough. Not only because I can't stand the terrifying and stressful sound of any type of alarm (one of my greatest fears), but also because it is my first attempt at trying sooooooo hard not to wake anyone up.
After I grab my phone, like a mouse trap slamming closed on a rat's tail, I immediately find the correct buttons to press (in total blindness) to stop the loud intro music to Kelly Clarkson's hit song, "Catch my Breath". Sometimes I am trying soooooo hard to be "quick like squirrel", that it actually makes me fumble around more and take longer than I would like. If Kelly gets to the 2nd verse, I know I've taken too long and there is a chance that at any second someone is gonna awake from their slumber.
If all goes as planned, then I am ready to start my decent from my bed.
I don't dare lay my phone back down on the nightstand table, for fear of it making a "thump" sound, so I keep it in my hand as I gently and gingerly slip my legs out from under the covers, careful not to move too quickly and wobble the mattress, or in a terrible situation, make a mattress spring sweak.
Once successfully out of the bed, I tippy toe, like a cat burglar, toward the bathroom door. In total darkness, I reach for the door handle and grasp my hand tightly around it.
I have found that the tighter I hold the handle, the less noise it makes when I turn it.
I s-llll-o-w-l-y turn the handle to the left just the tiniest bit, enough to unlatch the door from the door jam.
I don't dare let go of the handle because that (of course) would make some sort of sound and I'm sure someone would suddenly sit straight up in bed........ like Dracula in his coffin.
I keep my hand (still very tightly) on the handle and s-lllll-o-w-l-y lower the handle back down to its original position.
The door at this point is opened just enough to allow me to slide into the bathroom sideways, sucking in my stomach, holding my breath, and turning my face in the opposite direction so my nose doesn't get bumped.
When my bare feet feel the chill of the bathroom floor, I know I have done well.
The process of slipping my hand back out the door to reach around the corner and flip on the light switch is relatively easy and sound-less.....
unless you accidently flip on the bathroom fan instead of the light and all hell breaks loose and the dog thinks the garage door just opened.
I continue to put my contacts in, brush my teeth, get dressed (in my attire that has been previously planned and laid out neatly by the bathroom sink the night before), brush my hair and pull it back, put on deodorant, and put on my shoes........ all in slow, steady movements.
I make sure the water is on just a tiny trickle so it doesn't sound like the ocean tide is coming in.
I try to slip out of and into my clothes literally one toe at a time.
I open the drawers and cabinets slowly, silently, and with caution, and I never, I repeat NEVER, flush the toilet.
That would be suicide.
Once finished, I start my decent out into the wild....... and toward the kitchen.
I exit the bathroom the same way I entered. I pay close attention to every step I take from this point on..... making sure my tennis shoes do not squeak on the hard wood floor.
I creep like a band student in a parade...heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe..... all the way to the kitchen.
At this point I have to tackle the task of feeding the dog.
In the dark.
In silence.
Deep breath... this one is a toughie.
This act includes the following actions: opening the fridge, taking out dog food and medicine, opening cabinet to get dog food plate, opening silverware drawer to get a fork, scooping out and mashing up disgusting vomit-like dog food, opening another cabinet and getting medicine dropper, sucking up medicine into device, injecting the medicine into mashed up vomit like dog food, putting lid back on the dog food, opening the fridge door, putting food and medicine back, (I usually grab my water bottle for the gym at this point because there is no way I am opening the fridge door for the 3rd time because THAT would wake the neighbors. )
Once breakfast for queen Gertrude is prepared and all supplies are place back in their proper location, I band-walk back to the bathroom and ever so gingerly lay the dish down on the floor.
Still in darkness.
Still in silence.
I practically army crawl to the garage door, grasp the doorknob in my hand, turn s-llll-o-w-l-y, pull with force cause the door sticks, cringe as I open it cause there is no way to avoid making some sort of noise with this activity.
Sometimes I open the door slowly and sometimes I whip it open like one would rip off a band aid, fast and pain(noise)less.
At this point, I'm in the clear to make a little more noise.
The stress of waking a sleeping giant (or giants in this situation) is over and I have made it out alive.
Now its time to get in the van, head to the gym, get my heart rate up (and try not to vomit if it is a cardio day) for the next 45 min, drive home, exit the van, and proceed to enter the still dark, still sleeping house with careful, quiet, thoughtful moves until I am safe inside the shower.
Its a lot of work to be super quite in the morning.
I really, genuinely try VERY hard to make as little sounds as possible.
When I got home from work the other day someone (who shall remain nameless) said this:
"Do you think you could be just a little quieter in the morning before you go to the gym?"
A blank stare came across my face.
I think I stopped breathing.
And then I lost my sh*t.
NOTHING is more frustrating that trying your absolute hardest at something, only to find out that you are not succeeding.
If this has happened to you or is currently happening to you... know you are not alone......... and it's OK if you have a nervous breakdown over it.
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