My Coffee Mornings: 5:00-5:30

I love those early mornings when it's just me and my coffee. God, there's something magical about waking up at 5 AM when the whole house is quiet. No kids running around, no texts or emails buzzing - just me in that peaceful bubble between night and morning.

My alarm doesn't even need to go off anymore. My body just knows. I wake up right before 5, and there's this moment where I'm lying there, still warm under the blankets, and I think about staying in bed. But then I remember the coffee waiting for me, and that gets me moving.

I shuffle through the dark house in my old slippers - the ones my sister keeps threatening to throw away because they're falling apart. But they're broken in just right, you know? The floor creaks under my feet in that familiar way. It's weird how comforting those little house sounds can be.

In the kitchen, I start my little routine. Grinding the coffee beans is my favorite part. I use this hand grinder my dad gave me years ago. It makes this satisfying crunching sound, and the smell - that first whiff of fresh ground coffee beans hits me and instantly makes me feel more awake. Sometimes I close my eyes and just breathe it in for a second.

I put the kettle on and wait for it to boil, staring out the kitchen window at the darkness. There's something about that quiet darkness that makes me feel like I'm the only person awake in the whole world. It's lonely but in a good way.

When the water's ready, I do my pour-over thing. I'm not fancy about much in life, but coffee? Yeah, I'm kind of particular. The water has to be just right, and I pour it slowly in circles, watching the coffee grounds bloom. It's honestly the most patient I am all day.

By about 5:17, I'm settled in my favorite chair by the window with my coffee. That first sip - man, nothing beats it. It's like everything good in the world condensed into one moment. Hot, a little bitter, but in that perfect way that makes you feel alive.

I don't do anything "productive" during this time. That's what makes it special. I'm not checking my phone or making to-do lists or worrying about the meeting I have later. I just sit and drink my coffee and watch the sky slowly change colors. Sometimes the neighbor's cat wanders through the yard, and we have a little staring contest through the window.

Some mornings I feel sad about stuff, and I let myself feel it. Some mornings I'm excited about the day ahead. But most mornings, I just feel... present. Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

By 5:30, my mug is empty, and I can hear the first signs of the world waking up. Cars starting in driveways, the delivery guy dropping off newspapers down the street. Reality is coming back, and that's okay because I've had my time.

People ask why I don't just sleep in that extra half hour. They don't get it. Those thirty minutes with my coffee aren't just about caffeine - they're mine in a way nothing else in my day is. It's my little secret, this perfect pocket of peace before the chaos starts.

And somehow, carrying that peaceful feeling with me makes everything else a little easier to handle.

I've tried skipping this routine on weekends, thinking I deserve to sleep in. But I always regret it. Those days feel off somehow, like I've missed a chance to center myself. Even on vacation, I find myself seeking out that quiet morning moment with coffee in hand.

Maybe it sounds silly to care so much about such a simple thing. But I think we all need those small anchors in our lives - those little rituals that remind us who we are before the world starts telling us who we should be. For me, it's 5 AM with steam rising from my favorite mug, watching the darkness slowly give way to light, savoring each sip like it's a small miracle. And in a way, it is.