At 5:15 promptly, Chedva’s raucous alarm goes off, alerting her that the allowed amount of sleep is over. Slipping into some running gear, she follows her same routine – down the stairs, through the park, a right by the bakery, and back home once more. By 7 am, she is showered, dressed and contemplating life’s decision to invent oatmeal, the healthier breakfast option, before shrugging and reaching for the waffles.

7:45 is a rush to the B6 train along with every other Flatbush community member, yet Parker knows her so he’ll stop the bus in the middle of the street. Mother always said that a smile could go a long way. Reaching the Academy at 8:05 sharp, Chedva organizes herself and her classroom, before greeting her students and launching into her morning.

At 12:30, thoroughly exhausted, starved and in need of an espresso, she waves goodbye to Edmund, the security guard and walks down McDonald Ave. toward the ever-running F train. Up a ridiculous amount of stairs that knock the wind out of her, she finally arrives, usually just in time to have an asthma attack right before the train closes its doors.

Inhaling the combination potpourri of metro life, Chedva glances around, nodding to the man in yellow who is always on her train, at the same time, in the same car, in the same yellow shirt, everyday. Should she be worried? Suddenly its Broadway-Lafayette and it seems as if everyone needs to take the 6 train – since when did it become so popular at 2 in the afternoon? Three stops later and she’s walking under the construction site, wading through the anxious parents of the seemingly pretentious elementary school on the corner near Baruch. Left on Lexington, right into the twirling doors that give her a panic attack every time she uses them, she flashes the guard her id and a smile. There’s never a smile back, just a suspicious expression and a nod of acknowledgment. It’s 20 minutes before class, the elevator is on senior citizen speed, yet Chedva is still on-time and early, her personal favorite.