I get up early. Too early. Yesterday at 4 am (to be fair I was on deadline at work so started work at 5 am) and today at 5 am. What do I do you ask? Why so early? What's the point?
It's simple. It's when I wake up because I go to bed at 8 pm most days. Five in the morning is also my favorite time of day. I sometimes work on this blog, or on my YA fiction novel in progress (meh, it's just so hard as a memoirist to make the switch but I'll get there) or read from the couple of books of essays I've been devouring by Ann Patchett. This morning, I entered my second book into a memoir contest.
In fifteen minutes, I'll go downstairs at 6 am to have coffee with my husband who has to leave for work by 7. It's always fun. We do it every weekday and weekends too.
Today is an unanticipated court day (someone got sick in our unit) so I have to leave by 745 am to be in court timely. I so don't mind going in today. I get to see everyone before Christmas and hand out a few holidays cards in person (not much mailing this year, I'm cutting back).
Back to the early mornings. It's becoming a habit and one I adore. I'm with my thoughts with nothing to do for at least the first hour of my day. Then I get to spend quality time with my spouse sipping on espresso while he downs his black, lightly sugared coffee. I usually make us toast or breakfast tacos. It's so lovely in how ordinary it is.
It's life. Bitter at times like my espresso, but also invigorating. It is always a reminder to slow down and savor, one sip at a time.
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