I can only dream of my workday beginning at 11 am. Unfortunately, my weekday schedule follows me into my weekend and sleeping late, means perhaps another hour of sleep, if I am lucky. It is pointless trying to return to the land of nod, once the sandman releases me from sweet slumber. No matter what the clock says, I cannot spring from my bed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as they say. No. I force my eyes open and fumble for the wake-up juice.
After my first cup, I feel capable of extricating my brain from the primordial goo. Downing cup number two, rudimentary speech returns. My third cup renders me coherent enough to hold a non-demanding conversation. I don’t need to coffee to start my day, but the process isn’t pretty. I have scared small children and alienated family members when not properly caffeine kick-started into my fully functional humanoid disguise. They have learned their lessons, approaching with caution to press a steaming mug into my hand. They maintain a safe distance until the “More Coffee” mantra fades.
What is your morning ritual?
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer