Rhythms to Alertness

Bzzzz….bzzzz…bzzzz….Flip. Snooze.

Bzzzz….bzzzz…bzzz…Flip. Dismiss.

A blurry world greets me as I move the phone away from my face. Fumbling for my glasses, I stretch and groan. Half awake, I stumble into my running clothes and out the door. Barely conscious, I arrive at C.’s door with no significant memory of the half mile I ran to get there.

Groan. My legs swing into a gait almost more natural to me than walking. An efficient shuffle with minimal knee lift and a ball-heel-ball motion. Breathe. Relax the shoulders. Fall into this rhythm that is waking up.

Five miles later we end at my home. It is winter, so we pick an orange from the overburdened trees. My lips pucker at its tart sourness. Tomorrow we will eat from a sweeter tree.

Shower. Dress.

Breakfast-making is a fast-paced and well-timed affair. Heat three burners. Fill the kettle with water for one. Drop sesame seed oil in a skillet for the second. Place a comal on the third. Chop kale and mushrooms and scrape into the skillet. Crack and beat the egg, just a splash of milk. When my forearm feels the intensity of the quick beating motion, the egg is ready. Throw a tortilla on the comal. Push aside the veggies and slide the egg into the skillet. Water boiling, pour into the mug with the tea ball waiting. Flip and stir. Flip. All burners off. All food on the waiting plate. Tea ball out. Fork at the ready.

Breakfast is served.

Writing begins.

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