The first sip of coffee holds within it a sense of expectation. It is tired, bleary eyed and grumpy, yet still expectant of the day ahead.
Within it stirs the thoughts of the day ahead, the sweetness of unknowing, but the bitterness of repetition.
At this time in my life, I know how my days will slowly weave themselves: I will wake up, get up, do my uni work, workout, talk to my friends, go to sleep.
The repetition of this time is mind numbing, but I sip my expectation and think of my favourite type of day. The days which are surprise. The ones that make you feel alive and free: like when I woke up at 7 and took my camera to hunt in the frost. Or when I spent the day looking for crystals and eating sushi during my uni’s strike. Or the evenings where my friend and I would sing our favourite songs together when we danced home from the gym. We must have looked like the definition of insanity, but we were bouyant with laughter.
These are the days I cherish. I have had many days like these during this quarantine, which I hold close to my heart. Most recently was the day Katie and I dedicated to tie dying. Our creativity ran wild, and we laughed loudly. We talked for hours, and put our heads together simply to ponder colour.
Another time I took my camera and wandered for hours in new woods, by new coasts.
There is peace in this repetition, in this safety net we call our homes.
By the time I finish my coffee, I have forgotten that I wanted to add more honey. I think it was perfect the way it was.