Two Cups and a Lesson in Not Walking Away from the Toaster

It's barely past eight and I have already made one fundamental error this morning. I walked away from the toaster. I know. I know.

In my defense, the coffee maker beeped and I got distracted and then I stood at the counter staring out the window at absolutely nothing for probably three full minutes. By the time I remembered the toast it was past saving. The smoke wasn't dramatic, it never is, but that particular smell of scorched bread is weirdly demoralizing at 8am. I scraped it over the sink anyway. Took one bite. Put it down. Started over.

the evidence.

The second cup of coffee is always better than the first, I think. Something about the fact that you made it deliberately, with intent, after a small failure. I stood at the counter while it brewed and did absolutely nothing productive, didn't check anything, didn't open my notebook, just watched the light come through the window above the sink. It's been a slow week. The kind where you're waiting for something to happen and also actively avoiding making anything happen. The screenshots are still on my camera roll. The running club is still at 7am on Thursdays. The blog is still a half-formed idea that I'm committing to anyway. Small things.

attempt two.

I have no grand thesis about burnt toast. Just that I'm adding 'do not walk away from the toaster' to the very short list of things I've learned so far this year. Right next to 'finish the run even when your shins are screaming' and 'save the screenshot, you'll want it later.'