Up and At 'Em

Talk about exciting!

I'm not sure where my current morning-coffee routine began. It certainly isn't (adult) life long. I guess it began my last year or so in San Francisco, perhaps while I was writing my book. I fell into the habit of going for a morning run, but I was so excited to get to the coffee shop with my laptop that I would get the run in and over with as soon as possible so I could get to the coffee shop, first to read the paper over a toasted bagel and coffee, then immediately to get to work on the book, as soon as possible.

In case you forgot

Even then, I don't think I was there when the coffee shop in the Marina opened, exactly, though ... close. Odd, isn't it, that it was only when I wasn't working a full-time job that I started getting out of bed as early as possible in the morning?

In any event, when I moved to Budapest — once again, then, fully employed — I guess I had gotten into the habit. I enjoyed being among the first in the office, so getting up wasn't a problem, and I would always start with thirty minutes or so with my book, a cappuccino, and a yoghurt in the little coffee shop next door. Weekends as well, I would have my International New York Times in hand — purchased the day before, so it would be ready to go — and be at the McCafe in the Mammut shopping mall when it opened.

I didn't, that I remember, make the same point of being the first in the office during my first stay in Prague, in 2010, though on weekends I continued to do the early-morning International Herald Tribune thing  (generally at a Costa Coffee on Wenceslas Square, as my coffee-shop options back then were far more limited than they are now). And then, through Sao Paulo, then back to Budapest, then Prague, then Budapest, then Tucson, now back to Prague, it has slowly transformed into what it is now: Be at the cafe, both weekday and weekend, whether I have a job to go to or not, ideally when it opens, but at the latest 7 am,  to get ahead of the day, as it were, instead of racing to catch up. I can send any emails I need to, read the news, check my messages, etc., and still be among the first in the office. 

After that, the day opens up. I can go back home and watch some of the Australian Open, as I plan on doing today, or go play tennis (as I may also do today), or nap, or do whatever else the day requires. After that first hour or two, it doesn't matter. But there's a compulsion — it literally affects my nighttime planning — to get up and out, and the days I'm unable to do so (like the past two days, when I was sick), I feel trapped, restless, and unhappy.

Part of it may be a fear of missing out, I guess, but since I enjoy working outside of home instead of in it — the buzz of the coffee shop makes me feel part of a dynamic world, instead of isolated/insulated — it's mainly, I think, just an enthusiasm for what I'm doing, and for my life.

Huh. I can't say I feel enthusiastic about that life all the time. But now that I reflect, it seems to me, as long as I'm getting up and out early, that's a sign that I'm ready to meet the world head-on, and am not yet defeated. I guess it's a good thing!

Having a cat that wakes you up at 6:45 — 6:45 if you're lucky — doesn't hurt either.

Huh (again). Would you look at that. I had planned to make this a consideration of the different coffee cultures (espresso-based, not brewed), but those plans gang agley.