Light filtered through my eyelids, alerting my now awake brain that the sun had risen. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly for moment before finally opening them while simultaneously stretching out my arms and legs. Shifting my legs to the side of the bed, I curled my back forward, relishing in the satisfying feeling that came with the popping sensation running up my spine. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and fumbled with the thumbprint reader to unlock my phone. The screen opened and a row of notifications along the top of the screen greeted me. Wait, what? That was unusual. I almost never had texts or missed calls. ! Two missed calls from my manager?! Was I supposed to work today?! I was sure I had checked my schedule because I remember being surprised that I wasn't scheduled this Saturday morning like I usually am. A tight, squeezing, panicked feeling filled my stomach and chest. What if I got fired? What if someone else had to fill in because I didn't show up? What if the cafe had to open late because I hadn't shown up?! My heart rate rocketed and tears budded in my eyes. I didn't even want to look at the messages.

But I had to. This wasn't something I could just ignore and pretend like it wasn't happening as I did with many aspects of my life. This was my job and I needed to take responsibility. I would get ready as quickly as possible and apologize and work even harder to try to prove myself deserving of this job. My thumb hovered over the message. I couldn't help the audible whine that escaped my throat. Ok, ok. Just open it!

I clicked the message and read it quickly.

"Hey, Sonja! Sorry for the early call! I am supposed to work the morning bar shift but I'm feeling absolutely terrible, I think I caught the flu from one of my boys. If there is anyway that you could come in and take over for me I would really appreciate it! Let me know!"

Oh. Well that was a lot better than I expected. I could still feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears and my hands shook from the adrenaline that had flooded my body. But now that one panic was gone, another replaced it. I obviously hadn't planned on working today so I was totally mentally unprepared. I could always pretend like I slept in and then just answer her text when her shift was almost finished. Then again, it's not like I had actually planned to do anything in particular today other than trying to get some exercise in. My thoughts began to pick up speed, whirring faster through my mind at a dizzying pace. Then again, that was just it: I had planned to do nothing in particular. Then again, I really didn't like to disrupt the schedule I had set out. Then again, no one likes to work when sick and filling in last minute would show that I was reliable and dedicated. Then again, my manager was really sweet and I didn't want her to have to suffer through the rest of the day feeling miserable. Then again, I could also do with the extra cash. Then again--

Big breath. Alright. This was the right thing to do. My thumbs tapped quickly across the the screen.

"Sorry, I just got your message! I'll be in as soon as I can. Hang in there!"

Sent.

I stared at my closet beginning the daily struggle of trying to figure out what to wear, making it way more complicated than it needed to be. I knew that in all likely hood, no one paid attention to or particularly cared about what I wore. But that didn't stop my brain from pointing out every terrible thing about any article of clothing I had. Cute white blouse? 95% chance I would spill coffee on it within the first five minutes. Black turtle neck? I wore that the last time I worked. People are going to think I own, like, two shirts. Fitted grey long sleeve top? What if I had a massive sweat attack and then everyone saw my giant pit stains. Ew. Black top with the tie sleeves? What if the ties wouldn't stay tied? Ugh, it was already 8:30 a.m. Forget it, the black shirt with the ties would have to work. I slipped on a pair of slightly distressed mom jeans and took a glimpse in the mirror. These jeans made my thighs look fat. Well, honestly my thighs made my thighs look fat but the jeans didn't exactly camouflage anything. They would have to work. The counter would cover anything from my waist down anyway. I glanced at the clock again, 8:38 a.m.

I slapped some toner and moisturizer on my face and brushed my teeth while it set. I grabbed my concealer and slid it in the pocket of my big winter jacket, slipped a pair of comfy, black leather flats on and skittered out the door and to my car. Entering my car, I tried to turn everything on as quickly as possible. I cursed when I tried to reverse and realized that I wasn't going anywhere because my emergency brake was still on. I couldn't even tell what time it was because my dashboard clock was wrong. I had purposefully messed my car clock up completely to try to ease some of my anxiety. When I was driving somewhere I would focus too much on the time, checking it more than once in a single minute, obsessing over how much time I had to get somewhere and whether or not I would make it in time. It was times like this when I regretted that and wish I just knew what the damn time was! 

I pulled out carefully and tried to focus on the road. There was no reason to be worried about what time I would get there. After all, I wasn't even scheduled to work. The fingers of my right hand floundered about, trying to switch on music that would hopefully help me relax a bit during the short ten minute drive to Another Cup. When I finally pulled into the parking lot I tried to slow down and follow my usual routine. Park. Engage emergency break. Put the gear shift in first. Turn off the headlights. Switch off music. Turn off the car.

Breathe. This morning I took an extra breath to pause and ready myself for the day by giving myself mental reassurance. I slapped some concealer on while giving myself a mental peptalk. My plan for the day changed. That was okay. Plans change. It was a Saturday morning so I would likely be walking into a full house. Now that I had taken a moment to prepare myself I exited the car. Clicking the key fob four times, like always. As expected, there was a line at the counter and most of the tables were occupied. I quickly put my things in the back room and made my way behind the bar.

"Oh, hey!" I could tell my manager was trying to put on a cheery face but she was clearly not feeling it today. "Thank you so much for coming in on such short notice! I feel like death. I would hug you but I don't want to infect you with this crap. I'll head out now!" She briefed me on a few things, letting me know which syrups were low or needed more prepped, and trudged out the back entrance.

I greeted the chef quietly before turning to the espresso machine to start pumping out the drink orders that were stacking up quickly. This certainly wasn't my first busy Saturday morning, and each one got a bit more easy to deal with, but I still felt my muscles tense up and my brain kick into a higher gear as anxiety gnawed on the periphery of my mind. I thought back briefly to my first Saturday on bar by myself and how I was so close to a panic attack with the huge number of orders coming in. Thankfully, the chef had arrived just in time and offered to help me make drinks until the rush died down a bit.

I had never mentioned my anxiety to any of my coworkers but I guess that it was obvious enough that they figured it out. I was pretty jumpy and startled easily, since I was so often on edge, and my face and eyes tend to give me away a bit as well. There were other things of course too: shaking hands, stuttering, shoulders hunching and elbows pulling in towards my body, just to name a few. Of course