Coffee!

Every morning, if my Dad had time, I wake up to a lava hot pot of coffee. Carefully stored in a thermos to keep it at that exact temperature for the next two days.
Usually I shower and get dressed before I pour the life giving liquid, but sometimes morning starts stabbing me with guilt for spending so much time with evening, and sometimes the blankets kind of latch on to my ankles and I have to tear away from my nice warm bed, which makes me hate.
So, I drink a cup of coffee.
I'm very particular about my mug though. I cannot drink out of anything that doesn't coordinate with my outfit, or at least not clash. So, something simple and looks like it could be in a commercial. Cause that's what I think about in the morning. We have about twelve thousand mugs and there is only about five that I would deem worthy of my morning coffee. If they are otherwise occupied I choose a lesser mug and mope.
The "Keep calm and carry on" one is probably my favorite. Not only because that is the only time I will take advice like that (When I'm slowly absorbing caffeine) but it has a cute little crown on it and it makes me happy.
When I pour my coffee in the cup I have to think about how much sugar I need and whether it will make the coffee overflow. These things are important. I put alotalot of sugar in my coffee.
Yup, I do lick the side of my mug for drops of coffee, I do use just any spoon on the counter to stir it, I always end up with a bunch of sugar in the last sip, and sometimes that's all I have for breakfast.
Don't be hatin'
   I lika da coffee of bean.