I spent the requisite number of years launching myself out into the world in the cold, dark morning hours, driving to some job so I could earn my pay. I still do. So when a day comes along, like Saturday (not Sunday, that’s church in the morning), or a holiday, I looooove to stay at home in the morning. I make the coffee and anticipate being able to drink it from a cup at my leisure. Not gulping from a thermos in the car. Staying in my pajamas is a decadence that feels just right, as the sun climbs through the sky and angles its rays into my brightening apartment.
Today was one of those days. School is out for the rest of the week due to Thanksgiving holiday. I stayed up last night until 12:30, feeling like a kid who’s getting away with something. I slept like a baby until 6:30 and then, sighing blissfully, laughed at the clock. “Today you have no power over me!” bwa ha ha!
I got up at 8 and shuffled to the kitchen, and first order of business is making coffee and booting up computer. They are a tie in terms of importance for my well-being, I wish I could do both at the same time. As I settled down with my first steaming cup at 8:20, the phone rang.
Hmmm, that’s early, I thought.
“Let’s go vote!” my friend said. (Georgia is having a runoff for senator. Early voting starts today.)
“What?” Information doesn’t register before coffee circulates. It is a known fact. Ask any biologist. Make sure to ask after he’s had some coffee.
“No, thanks, I am not dressed or even showered.”
“I’ll give you 15 minutes, let’s go! We’ll buy donuts and coffee later!” Honk Honk
“You’re in the driveway??”
“Naw, I think I will stay right here.”
“I thought you were more spontaneous than that!”
“My spontaneity is carefully planned.”
They were persistent, though his wife had said to him that I wouldn’t be going because she knew I want to stay home in the mornings on my days off. Now, it is so sweet that a couple of friends think of me as they drive by and want to scoop me up for coffee. Real sweet!
But before my coffee, I might as well be a dog.