“Coffee Shorthand”, taken on my Android, edited with the Photo Editor app.

This morning I shut off my alarm with good intentions of getting up, performing my morning ablutions and getting in a half hour of yoga before I started in on the rest of my morning get-ready-for-work routine.  Then Mr. Muse threw an arm over me and well… 20 minutes later, as I was overheating under a still-turned-on heated blanket set at a toasty 4 on the dial, I rolled over and swung my feet to the floor to begin my day.  Without yoga.

I’m a putterer in the morning.  I take a while to warm up the motivational engine as it were, and well, getting up at 5 AM is not enough motivation to get in yoga for a half hour, though, as evidenced that I’m here at the laptop typing away, I had enough time to write a blog post.

Just decaffeinated excuses.

Today is Friday, or as I like to refer to them, “Fancy Coffee Fridays”.  My fancy coffee is nearly always the same.  Call it a “Peppermint Mocha” or, as the shop I stop at refers to them, a “Baby Grasshopper”, that is what I want.  I like my hot mochas, Imperial-size (20 oz.), non-fat, no-whip and 4 shots of espresso.  “Jet fuel of the gods” as my mo’ anam cara would say; high-octane go-juice.

Here’s a confession:  I hate the moniker “Baby Grasshopper”.  Firstly, while I’ve never eaten a grasshopper I doubt they taste like my fancy coffee: a luxurious mix of espresso, milk and mint.  I’m not big on the whole baby thing in general; human babies have floppy heads and can’t walk for months and you have to be incredibly careful with them because they really don’t bounce if they get dropped as evidenced by the number of people who make it to the news every year for submitting their application to Parent of the Year contests.  What it boils down to is that I dislike that my super-strong, high-octane, jet fuel of the gods drink…. has a wimpy, damn name.  But I can’t quit it.

Where everybody knows my name… okay, nobody knows my name, but they know my coffee drink.

So, today, I’ll stop at my favorite place on the way to work, order my drink (though they are getting to know me and my preference), solve a bit of the crossword puzzle they tape to the pickup counter, do a smidge of people-watching while at it and then, once that sweet deliciousness of hot, peppermint mocha is in my hands – head off to work.

I love my Fancy Coffee Fridays.  They are my indulgence of “shouldn’t but gonna anyway”.  What’s yours?