Lying in the warm black, searching for a ceiling, this morning flowed in from darkness, illumined by angels. Recalling all the usual propaganda, I was gently reminded of my sufficient awareness of my obligations. I debated for about an hour before finally conceding these pettier points and agreeing to break my nightly fast.
After my morning rituals I decided that a piping hot latte was in order. Sure, I’ve had the caffeine monkey off my back for a few months now, but the romance of this vacuous morning seduced me into embracing my hypocrisy for the time being. “Choose your battles,” it self-justified.
I tried to be as quiet as possible as I dressed for the hike to Tully’s, but Mary stirred and then pried herself out of bed after hearing my sinister plan. We even dressed our canine coconspirator in his favorite winter costume for the walk.
Of course, we abandon the original plan before we reached the corner of our block. I mean, Wow, and, Holy shit, it’s cold! That winter cold front we’ve been hearing about in the news now includes a breeze that pierces denim like glass.
Despite the chilled car seats, Plan B was far better. In a few minutes we were huddling over double vanillas, admiring the prospects of this sharp winters’ morning. The forecast calls for more of the same for more of the same for the next week or so. Regardless, we’ll head out to thrift after I’ve compromised with the less popular effects of my morning’s double vanilla enema.
