I began, about a month ago, a new morning ritual. My friend, A, who has been mentioned in other entries, used to live with my friends M and T. She now lives in a condo which is literally 100 m from work.
A is incapable of getting up in the morning. Unless, that is, she knows there is someone who will show up at her condo and bodily drag her from bed. That's where I come in.
Every morning, I now get up a bit early, shower, get dressed and walk to A's condo. The weekday morning concierge knows me now. We have our small talk while I wait for A to come down and get me. That place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. First either she or the concierge has to let me into the lobby. Then A uses this little infrared remote to activate the elevator which will only let her go to her own floor. Then there's another door which requires the remote. Then her own door, which requires her keys. It just seems like a bit of overkill.
I've been teaching her how to cook breakfast. She can fry an egg six ways from Sunday now. We've been experimenting with oatmeal and fruits and stuff. Today we even had corned beef sandwiches for breakfast. I bring really good coffee that I get from my little bulk store in Kensington. We chat. It's nice. I think we both go to work in better moods than if we'd had breakfast on our own.
This part will come as no shock to anyone who knows me or probably even anyone who has read my blog, but we wind up talking about me a lot. We also talk about A and our friends and family. It's pretty rare that current events come up, though.
I used to read the Globe and Mail while I ate my breakfast alone. I'd read about the latest technological developments, politics, international relations, what was going on outside my own neighborhood. Now I talk about what happened at work yesterday, who I have a crush on, or how badly we got creamed at dodgeball.
Well, I may not have any idea what's going on outside my own little world anymore, but I arrive at work well fed, well caffeinated and happy.