Day 2. I'm grateful for coffee. Not in a "I'm always tired" way. I am literally just so grateful for one of my favorite daily rituals. Most mornings, John makes me a morning cup. He often asks "What kind?" or "Do you have a preference of method?" And typically, but not always, I let him decide. On weekends, I'll often request the mocha pot with a hearty amount of creamy foam on top. He'll pick mocha pot or aeropress, or maybe his siphon pot. He'll pull out some of our favorite beans and grind them up. We're back to boiling water on our stove, so he'll turn on the faucet and fill up a sauce pan. Yesterday he used the pour over - which is incredible rare. Within time he'll hand me a cup of coffee, and if I'm lucky it will be in one of my favorite metalic stone ones and we'll have time to sit on the couch and half-cuddle and talk.
Today, I'm just drinking the office coffee, which is terrible. But I'm drinking it as the ritual right now - as the start of my morning and the beginning of my day. And I'm thankful. I'm grateful for such a lavish little ritual that begins almost all of my days.