Drinking coffee, putzing around

The morning is brought to me by coffee and NPR. The ritual of boiling water, grinding fragrant beans, dripping hot water through them to make black coffee anchors me to daytime. The sonorous sounds of NPR is the essential soundtrack and I tune in and out of attentiveness, paying more attention to the weather report and less to reports that start “another car bomb in Syria…”

I’ve considered alternatives. Twyla Tharp, I’ve heard, starts her day with a cab ride to the gym and two hours of pumping iron. I think a hard-boiled egg might make an appearance. I long to be a person who transitions seamlessly from dreaming, deeply, wildly, to yoga — something reflective and meditative. But for me that happens later.

Somehow I become awake through disorganized thought, coffee, news, random reading.