Morning Routines
The first thing I’ll say: I’m an early riser. Even when I don’t set my alarm, my body clock wakes me up in the pitch black of morning. Or maybe it’s my bladder. Whatever, I’m up. I like the quiet of mornings. Mostly, I follow the same routine: start the coffee (black) that my husband has prepped the night before. All I do is plug it in and press “brew.” Attached to the coffee pot, there’s usually a sticky note where Paul (my husband) has written a few words…some affectionate thoughts or a silly poem. Go ahead, roll your eyes. But I know you’re jealous that I found a soulmate who still loves me and thinks I’m beautiful after almost 27 years of marriage.
While the coffee is brewing, I let Lucky out of her crate. She stumbles out, groggy, and stretches her white-tipped paws along the kitchen floor with her back arching high. I don’t know what kind of dog she is. People say Lab mix but her mom was a Jack Russell Terrier. So, she’s got a Lab face but she’s small—30 something pounds—and has these long skinny legs and a curly tail. She has the softest ears. I let her out to go potty and she always comes bounding back into the kitchen ready for breakfast. I love that about her—that boundless puppy energy.
Words interest me. I like looking words up in the dictionary and the thesaurus. I just started learning Spanish and one of my favorite words so far is curiosidad. Curiosity. It’s hard to say, though, because I haven’t learned to trill my r’s yet.
I
meditate in the mornings. I mean, I do. I just don’t give it 100% of my effort.
I have a meditation app on my phone, and it has daily 10-minute guided
meditations. After Lucky eats, she needs to go back outside so I pop in my
earbuds and listen while I’m waiting for her to poop. Is it ironic that I’m
multitasking while I’m listening to someone talk about the benefits of being
mindful and present? Probably. But it’s better than nothing.
I used to write in the mornings before we got Lucky. But now she’s ready for her walk and she’s too distracting if I try to write first. She’ll come right up, put her paws on my keyboard sjakldf;jl and make herself a nuisance until I give up and find her leash.
Our morning neighborhood walks are full of bunnies, squirrels, deer, and the occasional fox. I keep saying I need to train her—Lucky pulls on the leash whenever she spots another animal and one
of these days, she’ll pull my shoulder out of the socket if I’m not careful. I keep my earbuds in while I walk her, usually listening to an audiobook. Right now, I’m reading The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner and it’s pretty good. By “read,” I mean “listened to.” I don’t really differentiate. Except I should because I haven’t read too many books lately. By the time I snuggle into bed at the end of the day with a book, I no longer have the energy or the attention span. I sit down, determined to read, and next thing I know, I’m distracted by an errant chin whisker and I’m rooting around in the bathroom vanity desperate for tweezers.
If I’m focused, I have time to write after my walk. Not long—maybe 20 minutes, but that’s enough. Sometimes there’s a seed of an idea that sprouts in my quick brain dump of “morning pages” rambling. Maybe I’ll develop it into something. Maybe not. But now it’s time for a quick shower. Get dressed, scan the headlines while I eat some oatmeal, pack my lunch, and call out “I love you,” to Paul as I rush out the door to the car. Hello Monday! How did I go from having so much time to running five minutes late to work?
I don’t know if I’ll keep up with the Spanish. I love the idea of speaking Spanish, but I don’t seem to make time to study on a regular basis. I think, “One of these days, maybe I’ll describe myself as a person who speaks Spanish, trains my dog, reads more books, and cleans out my bathroom vanity.” But for now, I can say this: I’m an early riser.
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