On days when I make the mistake of watching the complete train wreck that is the news, it’s comforting to have a world of elegance to retreat into. It would be nice to live for a day or two doing nothing but wearing pretty dresses and taking gentle walks while the servants make tea. But would never work. For one thing I don’t like tea. So, what do I do about my real life? What would Jane Austen say if she were living my life? Could she make even my boring morning routine into something full of decorum and grace? I bet she could. Let’s see what she might say. 

Our servants having been dismissed some 200 years ago due to reduced circumstances following the American war, in conjunction with the headlong rush into the modern world. I am compelled to rely on my own resourcefulness to accomplish the necessary tasks allotted to me at my time in life. 

Far too early, the alarm trespasses upon my slumbers. I keep my eyes even more firmly closed against this intrusion upon my rest, but it is to no avail. The Orange cat has leapt upon my person and is insisting upon her morning repast. 

Mr. Byrd, who wakens more easily than I, bestows a gentle kiss. “Come, Mrs. Byrd, you can do it.”

“I cannot”” I say burrowing more deeply into the pillows. “I am entirely unequal to the task.” 

“Nonsense!” Mr. Byrd says briskly rising from the bed. He relieves the cat’s suffering, leaving me to choose whether to rise myself, listen to the morning news or endeavor to avoid both of these unhappy alternatives by regaining my repose. The choice is simplicity itself. Alas, seemingly mere seconds later, Mr. Byrd raises his voice in a manner not to be brooked by disobedience, “Mrs. Byrd! It is now 7:25 of the o’clock!!!”

Groaning, I grope for my spectacles and am able to see for myself that he is in earnest and the situation has now become somewhat urgent. Against all inclination, I arise and bend my slow steps to the looking glass. The sight is not encouraging. Wishing earnestly for a ladies maid with a gift for hairdressing, I perform my morning ablutions mechanically and turn to my wardrobe. This, though overflowing, does not seem to contain attire in the least appropriate for my daily labor as an academic advisor. Some rummaging produces an acceptable pair of pantaloons. Further exertions bestow upon me a not unsuitable blouse. Both are sadly creased. 

Though I lack servants, I am blessed with a few alternative conveniences. The apparel is unceremoniously tossed into the dryer set to wrinkle release, and I am free to consider the alimentary demands of my own person. I glance at the clock, and realize that I must consider very quickly indeed. A piece of bread and some yogurt must suffice. I retrieve these comestibles along with the luncheon I prepared the night before and place all into my faithful workbag. 

Donning my newly warmed clothes, I run a brush through my hair and slide my feet into shoes and am at last equipped to depart. I have not an instant to lose. Seizing my workbag I dash for the car, then dash back to retrieve my phone, back to the car, once more to the house for my keys and my book and I am off at last. 

Driving with rather more vehemence than is strictly necessary. I am nonetheless forced to concede that despite my considerable efforts I will once again fail to arrive at the time designated by my betters. I am reduced to running from the parking lot to my place of work in a manner much better befitting a younger person. 

To my relief, my arrival does not raise so much as an eyebrow. My acquaintance is well used to my eccentricities. I sincerely vow to myself that I will do better. And thus, the day has begun as thousands of days before and no doubt, thousands of days to follow will likewise begin. 

There! I think that all sounds much more impressive than my daily habit of oversleeping and running out the door. In this Austen version, it’s obvious that my clothes are lovely, the bed has a lace coverlet and the house is immaculate. I can almost feel adventure waiting. Maybe Mr. Byrd will surprise me with flowers? Maybe I’ll learn to ride a horse? Maybe a rich and handsome young man will make an offer for our daughter? Anything can happen. 

Anneli Byrd is an academic adviser in Weber State University’s General Studies and Exploratory advising.