Finally I’m up before dawn. Which shouldn’t be that challenging because the coast would have it that the sun wakes drowsily at seven. I always check for puppy first. He’s usually stretched along the side of my mattress, a green-tea infused memory foam plopped down on the floor and shoved up under the bedroom window. I like it there; it’s grounding. When he stirs only to raise a concerned brow about the disturbed silence, I sigh and slide the covers back, trying to torture myself awake with the chilly morning air.
I’ve always treasured mornings for their sneaky silence. The expansive feeling of possibility before the day has inexplicably escaped me. Every night I close up the house: flip the blinds, lock the door, hang the dishes out to dry, set the sofa pillows back in order (because they are never in order except at barren midnight). In the morning, I get to pull back the blinds, set the water on to boil, begin as if on fresh canvas. Someday my livelihood will not require me to arrive at a destination before my morning rituals are fulfilled. Someday, I will design my day and it won’t be based on tradition. I don’t live by way of tradition. Until then, I can get up and work through tax season and try to minimize the amount of papercuts I render on a daily basis, appreciating the calm comings and goings of the office and the escape from the soul-slashing appointments of the past.
How long has it been since I’ve had to give myself a pre-work pep talk? 193 days. And before that, 114. 307 days and counting since the wool came off and altered my life path. I did that. Weird: I don’t usually remember dates.
Breakfast: Snuggles with the pup and a sweet potato spiced latte. Like a PSL with sweet potato swapped in. I make mine with full-fat coconut milk and Dandy Blend. Been using gobs of both lately. Use Meghan as a guide (for this and all things).
Morning snack: Sweet potato baked pudding and 85% chocolate. I’m also always drinking some concoction. I bought an electric tea kettle for the office when I started. My boss makes weak-ass, unfair trade coffee – and I don’t want to be drinking coffee everyday anyway. A client once commented that I was triple-fisting my beverages. Today I was still nursing my sweet potato latte alongside a steaming cup of straight Dandy Blend and of course my water glass. The office has a reverse osmosis system so I take advantage while I’m there.
Lunch: The impetus dal from last night, couched with skillet brown rice. Also: Ottolenghi’s hummus drizzled with California olive oil and smoked paprika. Warm na’an, spinach. (I was able to find a three-ingredient variety at my local grocer, but had to wade through the additive-laden bread products to get to it.) (Eye roll.)
Afternoon snack: more beverages. Oh, did I forget to mention that I ate the last of the chocolate bar while prepping lunch? I bought that for baking… Priorities. During my lunch break I threw together my cold herbal coffee from earlier in the day with almond milk, ice, and spices typical of Moroccan coffee beverages (cardamom, clove, nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger, black pepper). It’s a SPiced coffee. Ha.
Late afternoon snack: Later that same day…the barista called it a “tiny meal.” I stopped into our local coffee shop to read before I went to the gym, and felt it only right that I partake in a single shot and bite-sized baklava.
Dinner: I had leftover dal and rice from my lunch portion (it’s v filling), with the remaining hummus dolloped right on top. Jared made garlic shrimp on a bed of spinach, topped with brown rice and slivered zucchini and a glaze of red wine reduced in butter.
Zumba, yoga, more puppy snuggles.