My first morning in San Francisco, I woke up dreadfully late, according to NYC time: it was 6:03 in San Fran, which meant at home, Husband had already done the breakfast-lunchbox-dropoff routine and was back home with a cup of coffee.
I thought about calling to see how the first morning-without-mommy went, and then decided I didn’t want to know. But going back to sleep proved impossible: the morning routine has become too hard-wired. Instead, I decided to haul myself out of bed and wander down to Union Street for my own cup of joe (alas, the coffee shop was very unclear on the “iced coffee” concept: hot coffee poured over ice is NOT iced coffee).
Watery coffee notwithstanding, however, the city did offer me a reward for getting out of bed: sunrise over the city.