View this post on Instagram

I am a morning person.

A glass-half-full kind of person because, honestly, what good does it do to be anything else? Pessimism is so last season.

Every morning starts the same: I wake up with my cat, Echo, curled up next to me. His front paw is always stretched out, insistently touching my face as if to remind me he owns me. It’s adorable—and mildly oppressive.

Still, it’s the first thing I’m grateful for each morning.

You see, I’ve found that living a life of gratitude makes everything better. When we focus on what’s good—even tiny things like warm coffee, clear skies, or a soft paw on our cheek—it’s hard to stay bogged down by the bad. Studies even back this up: gratitude can lower stress, improve sleep, and make us more resilient. It’s like a free upgrade for our mental health. You should try it sometime. (Not that I’m judging if you don’t!)

I check the clock, and this is where my day pivots from serene to sprinting. More often than not, I’ve pressed the snooze button one (or five) times too many, and like a caffeinated gazelle, I bolt out of bed. Sure, I’m late, but hey, I’m alive and life is still a beautiful mess.

I know, I know—if life’s throwing lemons at you right now, you probably want to hurl one at me for being so obnoxiously optimistic. I get it. No one likes the perpetually sunny morning person. But I promise, I’m not trying to outshine anyone. I’m just in my groove. That is, until I step onto the morning train.

This is where my Zen shatters like cheap glass.

See, I have this vision of the perfect train ride: Everyone is either snoozing gently with their heads tilted against the window, captivated by the sunrise, or quietly reading a book, like civilized humans. Maybe a few are stealing a quick power nap, heads bobbing with the rhythm of the train. It’s a serene symphony of silence.

But then, there’s that person. The one doom-scrolling on their phone, forcing the rest of us to endure a relentless parade of TikTok clips at full volume. One second, it’s a dog doing cartwheels and the next, a makeup tutorial with someone yelling about contouring.

Seriously, how are people so oblivious to the auditory horror they unleash? It’s like they’ve never heard of headphones—or basic human decency.

Did you know that in Japan, public trains, including the Shinkansen, are famously quiet? Talking on the phone is considered rude, and people practically whisper their thoughts to themselves. It’s like a moving temple of respect. Meanwhile, here, I’m just trying not to launch someone’s phone into the next carriage.

I know, I know: it’s not what other people do, it’s how we react. I’ve heard all the wisdom about staying calm and choosing inner peace. But when someone’s phone starts blasting “Baby Shark” on a loop, my inner peace packs its bags and takes the next train out. My proverbial glass doesn’t just empty—it cracks under the strain, and all my joy spills out like cheap wine at a bad party.

Still, gratitude helps, even in moments like these. I remind myself that the world is full of good people and considerate moments—I just need to focus on them. And maybe, just maybe, tomorrow’s train ride will be a little quieter.

Is it petty? Absolutely. But let’s be honest: we all have our petty rages. Mine just happens to board the same train every morning.

~