mornings.

I don’t think I’ve told you yet about my mornings. I’m absolutely in love with them. So here’s my routine:

I wake up. Switch on the radiator without even thinking about it as soon as my feet hit the floor. Stumble into my airplane-sized bathroom to wash my face. Pick out some embarassingly American outfit to wear from my wardrobe. Put on my makeup and attempt to somewhat tame the wild Bob Dylan morning hair. Trudge out into the hallway to the kitchen and put on the kettle for hot water, pour some porridge into a bowl and stick some oolong in my tea strainer. A careful balancing act is then carried out to open the kitchen door with perhaps the pinky of my right hand so that I can carry my breakfast cargo back to my room all in one, effective trip. Sometimes some tea escapes my cup onto the floor, but it gets wiped up by my sock.

The curtains are opened, the lamp switched on, the computer gets woken up, quickly check my email, and then I flick on some la blogotheque. I sit, with my porridge and tea, and watch whatever band is roaming the streets of Paris. The watching is usually done carelessly and the music is really just in the background as I’m most likely simply staring out my window. Sometimes it is sunny with a few white clouds, sometimes it is lightly snowing, sometimes (on mornings like today) it looks as if the sky has disappeared and there are no clouds (or the sky is one big cloud- I can’t tell) and I know that it will most likely rain. But it doesn’t matter. It’s morning. The day hasn’t really started yet. People are still waking up or still sleeping and whatever mistakes that will be made today haven’t been made yet and whatever goals that will be unreached today haven’t been unreached yet. It’s morning, so I can pour half that bottle of honey on my porridge because I’ve got a whole day to walk off all the sugar. Usually, I go to bed at night hoping I’ll fall asleep fast so that I can wake up in the morning. As I sit here and finish my tea, time has frozen, or slowed down to an almost unconscious speed. It doesn’t really, that’s a lie, but it’s just this alternative present that exists until I have to get up, brush my teeth and leave the safety of the morningtime at my desk. 

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