“The cream is bitter!” Jamie said trying the not-to-sweet perfectly made whip cream from Zola’s on our morning date. Just yesterday.
This morning, I ordered a triple shot white coffee, half pumpkin half white chocolate, oatmilk latte from another shop. Bitter Coffee. They don’t dump the first round of shots and that’s something I know now. Bad white coffee is still better than burnt espresso any day, so I drink it up gratefully. Though, drinking the bitter seems to be the theme of my week, already.
My alarm went off at 5:20, I got dressed in floral spandex and my favorite dark blue strappy sports bra. Added a few warm layers on top and made my emotional support tea that gets me out in the cold. I scraped the ice from my wind shield and left the same time I always leave for yoga this morning to be met by unusual crawling traffic. 5:58am I still sat on the highway when I’m typically getting warmed up on my mat. Bummed, I went home. Grabbed my laptop and headed to the coffee shop. Here I am. Using my mat time to talk to you, instead.
How am I?
I’m okay. Still healing. Still recovering. I hateeee when things interrupt my eating and yoga flow. It’s still my biggest anchor. Considering hitting hard for a week and doing two classes a day for a minute. The holiday really threw a wrench in my usual classes and any class missed messes with my head a bit. I joke, “yoga is my AA” but it’s not a joke. It’s not really funny. I’m grateful for the support I have at my studio with my instructors, with my girlfriend, and from my current living situation to make it a priority.
I’m enjoying coffee shop dates, chess, and blackjack with James.
Considering career moves. We’ll see.
Bitter Coffee
