Actually, it’s cheap coffee with a tsp. of sugar and a generous splash of oat milk. I simply can’t relate.
I get up when I want except on Wednesdays when I get rudely awakened by the dustmen. I put my trousers on, have a cup of tea and I think about leaving the house
I feed the pigeons. I sometimes feed the sparrows too. It gives me a sense of enormous wellbeing. And then I’m happy for the rest of the day, safe in the knowledge there will always be a bit of my heart devoted to it
If the film American Psycho did not exist, this would be a completely normal approach to selling woman’s beauty products. It’s the genius of Guinevere Turner and Mary Harron that this makes Patrick Bateman seem so alien.
I wake up at the existentially ridiculous hour of 4:00, unless my insomnia is in swing and I got up at 1:30. I roll over to my wife and gently touch her to wake her as well. Then somehow, despite the fact my eyes refuse to open, I stagger out of bed, put on my bathrobe, and make it safely down the creaking stairs to the kitchen where, with luck, my coffee has already brewed and is waiting for me. Without luck, I forgot to make it the night before and now must do this task while the neurons in my brain are still wandering the land of Dream and demanding I go back to bed.
Coffee in hand, I make it to my computer and boot up. I browse the news, twitter feed, check Boing Boing, as I wait for the mental processes I rely on to get up a head of steam. At which point, it’s probably time to let the dog out and feed the pets.
Then I write. Until it’s time to either take a quick shower and dress for work, or until I’m done writing and ready to do something else. No expensive potions, though. Just bar soap and dandruff shampoo and I’m good. I might even shave if I feel saucy.
I get up around 7:00AM, start my phone, make tea for the Mrs. and make myself a coffee (grind Starbucks Espresso and brew in an Aeropress). Coffee in hand, I boot the computer, check 5-6 websites and go through my work email. Being semi-retired is great!
Oatmeal coffee boing boing (hopefully with new posts that are “mostly wonderful things”) prepare kids lunches, walk dog, remind kids of stuff they need (hopefully I remember to remind them), drive them to school, more coffee, etc.
Tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen,
Pour myself a cup of ambition,
Yawnin’, stretchin’ trying to come alive…
My only remaining morning ritual is shaving with brush and straight blade, and even that too infrequently these days
(Extra crap to keep the watchdog happy)
Woke up, fell out of bed
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
And looking up I noticed I was late
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