I roll out of bed and drag myself to the coffee maker. Sometimes I’ve thought ahead, and there’s not fuel ready for me. Other days, I groggily scoop and fill and press start. Then I go to the bathroom, splash some water on my eyes, and head back to pour a cup (dotting with my dreamy fresh almond milk, of course). I take it on my walk with Mitra or head straight to my desk to work.
Every day. Every day.
But not today.
Today, I’m having my first cup at the shop around the corner, around other humans going about their own morning routines. I’m changing it up, just to see what happens. Because that’s what the final forty days of My Year of Abstinence are about.