I Don't Do Mornings. I Do Coffee and Quiet Plotting.

I don't do mornings. Mornings are a rumor started by well-rested people, and I don't trust them. What I do is coffee — industrial quantities, clutched like a life preserver. The mug is oversized because regular mugs are for people with regular problems. This is not a beverage. This is a medical intervention with a handle.

Once the coffee is secured, phase two: quiet plotting. The target is specific — whoever scheduled the morning. The 7 AM meeting organizer. The neighbor with the leaf blower. The sun itself, for showing up uninvited at such an hour.

The plotting is quiet because loud plotting requires energy, and all available energy is holding the mug. Revenge fantasies drafted, strongly worded emails composed and never sent — sending them would require a third phase, and there is no third phase.

Rule for visitors: approach with caffeine, or don't approach at all. Black, large, no small talk. Mornings are temporary. The plotting is forever.