Glad You Could Make It


‘Glad you could make it,’ is a phrase that has been said to me often and somewhat sarcastically throughout my life. I don’t intend to be late. I do try to plan and be on time.  Between the friends who have learnt to time check me (lie to me) and the ones I send the ‘on my way’ texts to (lie to them) I do have good intentions. After being on the receiving end of some horrendously shoddy time-keeping I have improved. I don’t think my time is more valuable than anyone else’s. I’m not thoughtless and I don’t forget. I simply miscalculate. I’m cruising along getting ready and 10 minutes before I leave the house I’m doing six different things, gathering crap, brushing my teeth, drinking tea, finding my other shoe, losing my keys,and debating if I need a jacket or not. Yes, I’m claiming it’s a maths issue. Is it working?

So, the question is, how do I find myself here? A plate of French toast, laced with maple syrup, lightly caramelised banana and crispy bacon. Mint tea on the side. Because palate cleanser.
I’ve been for a swim, and two weeks in no longer feel like I want to throw up afterwards. We’re calling that winning.
I’m writing and I’ve got the choice of my Kindle in my bag. I’m going to leave here and go for a walk. I’ll finish watching the sunrise I can see beginning from the vantage of my waterside table.
Then, and only then, I will be going to work. For 8 a.m. And…ohh, for the love of feck have I accidentally started doing a Miracle Morning??! That thing that I usually associate with smugly sorted people who have Insta-perfect lives (and usually children). An attitude which is pretty much pure sour grapes because I’ve tried it before and failed miserably. Or, to look at it another way – I’ve failed at it quite happily snuggled up in bed for an extra hour.
But I suppose this shift does make sense in a way. Be it Hervey Bay in Australia, which involved a lost dog and ended up being more stressful than zen. Or wandering with free coffee and day old Italian pastry in San Francisco. Or turbo charged free coffee from an Air BnB in Arizona. On all my travels I have loved slipping outside early enough to see a good sunrise. I think as someone who is late pretty much everywhere, I just get a perverse satisfaction from getting a front row seat to watch the day start.
The added bonus of my now-home is it’s pretty difficult to get a bad view of the horizon. From neon pink, to unicorn purple (yes, that is a colour) I’ve been greeting the rainbow of days with an exercise and chai inspired grin on my face. Speaking of, I got a great recommendation from a client and found an incredible new coffee spot. It is quite literally someone’s shed. And as you drive down the suburban street at 6.30 a.m. it throws it’s caffeine fuelled beacon into the morning air. Its cosy interior is all wood beams, copper and vintage chairs. A record player is coasting around lazily behind the counter, and the coffee menu is simple yet strong. To coin an eloquent phrase, ‘Nah, yeah, it’s sweet as.’
I think I could get used to this early morning life.



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