Morning routine, 11/12/2015
Thursday, November 12, 2015
My alarm goes off at 6AM with a jolly, tinkling set of bells that my dead-asleep husband rarely hears. I snooze it three times before maybe turning it off. Then my fitbit buzzes at 6:30. Lately I have slept even past that, waking up at 7 or even 8.
Today I got up at 6:10.
I stumble to the bathroom where I sit on the toilet and scroll through Facebook while my body decides what it wants to do. Sometimes I pick st the ingrown hairs on my leg. Then I marvel at my insane hair for a good thirty seconds and putter to the kitchen.
I turn circles like a dog until I remember I always have the same breakfast. So I start the oatmeal: half cup of oats with any seeds and nuts I have on hand (today it was chia, sesame, ground golden flax, and toasted shelled pumpkin seeds my market calls "pepitas") and a healthy couple dashes of salty. These are my salty seedy oats. I add water until it is all covered and put it on the gas burner.
The coffee part can get tricky. I ran out of coffee like some kind of barbarian this week and ended up roasting the green coffee beans an Ethiopian friend gave me, grinding those up and making coffee. It was delicious but took an hour and I only made enough for 3 cups.
Luckily I finally went to the store and got two bags of Revolution Roast which is a local coffee transported by bicycle power and also was on sale. I have to grind the beans, but after roasting my own beans this doesn't seem such a great task.
Today I noticed a bag of cinnamon sticks on the kitchen counter so I threw one of those in with my ground coffee. I overfill the water carafe so I can slurp off the excess and then pour it into the machine. Kind of like: some for you, some for me. Even though this is my damn breakfast so it is all for me.
Then I maybe pick at the coconut bread I made yesterday where I accidentally used a whole pound of butter instead of of a half pound. Then I remind myself not to eat while getting ready to eat.
I plop on the couch and read an interesting article or scroll through Sparkpeople until my oats make a burning noise. I turn them down and return to the couch after verifying that no, my coffee is not ready.
Then I send a few good morning texts to the women who wake up as early as me and catch up on any SnapChats I haven't opened. Finally hunger outweighs laziness and I get up again to turn off the now slightly burnt oats and pour out some black coffee. I instantly broke the carafe for my 2 cup machine and so I have been using a gorgeous Pyrex tea pot that is supposed to nestle inside a plastic handle brace but ain't nobody got time for that (also, it melts) so I let the coffee percolate into this Pyrex fishbowl thing and then I grab at it with my bare hands all the while telling myself I need to get a real carafe. When my hands are sufficiently burned and my oats plunked into a bowl I contemplate the burny bits on the bottom. Sometimes I can peel it off in one go and eat it like a yummy cracker. Today I chip furiously at the toasted pepitas and continue to bun myself on the still hot pot while gobbling what bits I can carve off. Finally I let it soak in water, ashamed km my failure until I remember I have and full breakfast waiting for me.
Then passes a good thirty minutes of reading and eating breakfast, followed by the delightful second round of reading with my second cup of coffee. On normal days I lurch to my feet and assemble my biking supplies for the day, but the winds are over 30 mph this week so I will take my second cup to go and catch a bus instead.
Salty seedy oats and black coffee.