Two mornings a week I don’t go in to work until noon. On the other three mornings, it ranges from 7:30 to 9:00, depending on the day, the schedule, the position of the sun, the stock market in Japan, or whether I’m wearing socks. Seriously, some Nobel Prize mathematician would have to come up with a chalkboard-sized formula to correctly predict my schedule.
But on my early mornings, when I get to the office I have my breakfast preparation process for my bagel and coffee in the staff break room. I have my coffee cup, my butter, cream cheese, my own coffee creamer all splayed out on the counter next to the microwave. On many of these mornings, I encounter D from our marketing department.
This morning he remarked on my routine and how meticulous I am. “I’m jealous of what you’ve got going on here with your routine and all. I wish I could keep something up like that,” he said.
“Because it’s food,” I said.