A Day In My Life

 

My day has started well. I woke up.

It would have been better had the dog not woke me an hour too early, so that he could go out and mark his territory in the back yard, but hey, let’s not start off on a bad note. I am alive.

Resisting the urge to turn over and get a second opinion, I make the most of it and get out of bed. This brings about the usual chorus of grunts and groans, cracks and creaks. Youth is wasted on the young! I stagger toward the kitchen, knowing that salvation lies there.

If I was a religious man, I’d spend a few moments giving thanks for all the wonders of my life, but hey! life’s too short and my need for coffee is too strong. Let’s face it, without the aid of coffee, I would struggle to find which way is north, let alone kneel down and pray.

If there is a deity out there, I’m sure he’s got better things to do than keep track of every idiot’s morning mumblings. The fact that I greet the morning on a positive note should suffice to any reasonable deity, and the unreasonable ones have enough crazies to keep them company without needing my intervention.

Sticking on the kettle, I pace myself with a bowl of manna, crisp and crunchy on the palate. I eat this while checking my emails, allowing my brain to slowly begin its warm up process. The answer to the meaning of life will have to wait for now. It is still too early and my synapses are still fizzing.

Finally, the sweet music of the kettle dies down and I can start the short ritual of my coffee production, grinding beans, inhaling the sweet aroma, pouring in the water and waiting patiently for the brew to become the sweet elixir I cherish so much.

I am ready to face the day, even if it’s a Monday. With any luck, I will not murder someone today, but at least if I do, I’ll be awake enough to bury the evidence and invent a reasonable alibi.

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