It’s chilly in the studio this morning. My coffee cooled quickly, and is already only warm. I drink it down before it is cold. The heat is on. I take a moment to be grateful to have it. It’s winter. Cold, even in the mild Pacific Northwest, is often part of that experience. I check the weather, and note the below-freezing temperatures forecast until well past 9:00 a.m.; it is a good day to wear a base layer under my work clothes. I make a second coffee and finish dressing.

My routine is fractured this morning, broken and disorganized. No idea why. Doesn’t much matter as long as everything is managed and I’m out the door on time. My sleep has been poor this week. The return to waking to the alarm after a week of sleeping until I wake has messed with my sleep quality. I woke thinking it might already be Saturday, and very much wanting to go back to sleep.

One task, one moment, one verb at a time, I wake up and step through my morning routine. I am eager to face the day. Eager to finish it. I am eager to enjoy the weekend after an intensely busy, short, week. There is so much more to do than I will finish this week, but it’s a list of things that extends well into 2017, and isn’t a matter of stress so much as planning. I’m okay with that, I like to plan.

It’s a winter morning. Nothing more than that. I’m content. The chill is quickly becoming a comfortably warm room. My second coffee is hot, fresh, tasty. I have what I need. It’s enough.