Morning

Every work morning, I put on the kettle while I take my shower. I only vaguely remember the shower, since I am not entirely awake right after 5AM, but my muscles remember to get me clean and deodorized, clean toothed, and dried generally.

I find my clothes laid out from the night before, and get them on without falling over. I get the hot water to boil again, spoon our the Taj Mahal loose tea from the red tin with the nifty latch- a Christmas gift that held - something. Hear the kettle click off and pour water into the white two cup pot, then into the bowl of cream of wheat fortified with wheat germ. Add a square of Trader Joe's dark chocolate to the cereal, strain the tea into my brown mug with red interior, stir cereal well to avoid lumpiness. Start the computer, and sit with nourishment and theophylline to read comics, weather on noaa.gov, Fortean Times "On this day..." and Engrish.com.

I sip, spoon, Moby may reach up to greet me, or want to play, or want me to sit by him while he eats, or may well just sleep on, ignoring me completely. At nearly six, I finish up, slide on my shoes, grab my bag with T pass, make sure I have keys, lunch if planned the night before, keys, watch, glasses, coat, and these days, hat, scarf, gloves. Then my backpack. I turn off the lights, and grope my way to the bedroom. I kiss D, with immense gratitude that I have him there. If he is anything but finally, fast asleep after a bad night of insomnia, he will murmur, "I love you." I go out, lock the door behind me, and walk the half mile or so to the train stop.