I am not a creature of habit. We don’t eat at a specific time in the evening. I don’t go to bed at the same time each night. I sometimes eat lunch, sometimes I don’t. Even though I don’t have a long commute, I like to mix it up and take different routes. Most days I’ll drink coffee before I leave in the morning but occasionally I have a glass of water instead. It’s not unknown, albeit really seldom, that I eat breakfast. Sometimes I have to rush because I started reading the news on my phone, sometimes I just leave leisurely. But there is one morning ritual that has been forced on me. At around 6am, earlier in summer, later in winter, I am woken by a cold nose nudging me gently at first, more forcefully the longer I don’t react. Somebody wants food. I get up, barely conscious, rip open a food pouch, place the filled bowl down, and find my way back to bed. Sometimes the cat will settle down next to me and purr me back to sleep. My catnap, if you will, before the alarm sounds and I have to get up in earnest.
Linked to Friendly Friday: Morning rituals.