I slugged my way out of bed after snoozing for an hour. Throwing some cereal into a bowl, I crunched through it as I waited for my coffee to get ready. It was ready. Pour. Sip. Burn. OW. Splashing some water on my face, I got dressed and got the usual items together and into my pockets (phone, wallet, keys). Then I stepped outside. A brisk November breeze blew past, and I threw up my hood.

Hopping onto my bike, I tried to ignore the seat that wouldn’t sit quite still, the handle bar grips that were falling off, the squeaking of the tires. So instead I plopped on my headphones and listened to my favorite podcast. I rode past students going to class, returning to their dorms. It felt colder the faster I went. Forgot to wear gloves.

I arrived at Hinkle Fieldhouse warming up my hands as I showed my ID, and filled in the few bubbles asked of me as a citizen of the United States of America. A slight hiccup arose when the machine that would take my vote didn’t respond to the slip of paper. They replaced it, paper dropped, and I breathed a sigh of relief. As I sat back on my bike, I thought about class I had to go to next. Just another normal day.