For the first half of this past week I drank no coffee. Wednesday last we went on a hospital tour, and saw the very posh maternity ward where Little Bear will come into the world this summer. Four hours later I was at home in the thralls of norovirus, vomiting hard enough I was worried I might break a rib. I couldn’t eat or drink much the next few days, so wiping the caffeine slate clean seemed like a useful byproduct of the whole sordid affair. Of course, I drained most of a liter french press this morning before getting off the couch for the days activities, so it did not take long for things to get back to normal.
Coffee is one habit which has given my life shape for the last decade, plus. In the recent years of post-grad school adulthood proper, my consumption has hardened into black only and frequent triple espressos, which seems appropriately dour. I have yet to relapse back into the 2pm espresso habit.
Wanderings outside have (obviously) been another defining factor, and they too have been quite mellow since we returned from New Zealand, to the point of seeming absence. Thankfully winter has in the past two months been wholly uninspiring, here in Montana, which has made my new inclination to stay home look less outstanding. In the past I’ve written about the various ways to get outside more often, neglecting out of myopicicity the most salient point: prioritize doing so over social obligations. In 2015, for the first time, staying local to attend a party is not appears responsibly, it is what I want to do. Which is to say that soon everything will change, and that will be welcome.
(I still hiked ~25 miles this weekend. An early spring will at least let me go into the Bob Open with decent dirt miles on my feet for the first time in the events history.)