The first thing I do when I wake up is to read and write. I’m not reading or writing anything profound. It’s just me talking to myself.
Back when smartphones were not invented, I was forced to actually get out of bed to go to my computer. Mom always had food available and I always had left over when I lived on my own. And because my ex-fiance was an early riser who loves to go out to eat breakfast, he would dragged me along and I’m forced to eat and interact with the world first before I’m allowed to do anything else.
With B though, he wakes up way later than me. There’s usually no left over because he eats like a beast. And with the smart phone storing all my books and writing app, there is literally no incentive for me to get out of bed. Not to mention it’s warm and cozy under the blanket.
So when B wakes up, he usually finds me still lounging in bed with my stomach growling, and I’m totally ignoring it. This doesn’t compute and he thinks something is wrong with me.
“I want you to get up and do the things that you want to do”
“I am doing what I want to do”
“lol. stop fucking with me. You need to eat. Get up, make coffee, look at the yard, and eat your breakfast first.”
Sounds pretty ideal right? Except I don’t think he realizes that frying an egg is much more taxing than reading a 400 page book for me in the morning.
But I get it. What I’ve been doing is not healthy to my body. I’m gonna try to have a morning routine that involves nourishment before I do anything else.
I might have to put sticky notes on food items that says “Butaro’s breakfast, don’t touch.”