I have lots and lots of habits that I perform with varying regularity: biting my nails, working out, feeling sorry for myself, a second glass of wine, etc.
I can think of only one habit that I indulge in every day (if showering doesn’t count).
COFFEE. First thing in the morning, each and every day, even if I sleep in, the coffee will be made.
I only drink a cup a day, but making coffee has become a nearly automatic action that I take whenever I step into my kitchen in the morning.
This all started after my first child was born. In the early months of caring for an infant, day and night don’t really exist. Generally, one is up half the night and then trying to sleep half the day. After I experienced many early a.m. feedings that bled through dawn into morning, I needed something that would be a touchstone that declared that “the day” had begun.
That’s when I began to make coffee as a daily habit. Making the morning coffee was my own affirmation of another day’s beginning. Making coffee = morning time, even if I had arisen with the baby at 4:00 a.m. and had really hoped to catch a little more shut-eye.
I’m sleeping a lot better now, thank goodness. I won’t admit that I’m always ready to face the day when I roll downstairs each morning, but I know that starting a pot to brew will be the signal to start my engines.
Although I start the coffee first thing every day, I usually don’t get around to drinking it until after the kids have been delivered to school and I’ve done some exercise. Hence, this is what I normally look like when I’m drinking my daily cuppa:
Besides breathing, I think coffee is my favorite habit. Could be worse!