The first cup of coffee. Ahhhhhhhhh.

In those first few sips, within the first hour of my day (usually within the first half hour, actually) I start to digest the day – the possibilities swirled into every gulp I take.

…but coffee is not what this post is about.

Even though I’ve been retired since Friday from the depths of cubicle life, things haven’t slowed down for a second, which is a good thing, because I don’t do well with boredom.

Our new-old house is coming along…but s-l-o-w-l-y. Rob and I are still sleeping on a mattress in what will someday be my office, with clothes heaped on top of clothes in small mountains all around us. Kind of like the college experience all over again, only not, because I had a small apartment when I was in university that remained clean most of the time. Some of the time. Occasionally.

But, aside from clothes heaps, make-shift bed and shoes I haven’t seen in weeks because they’re lost in a box somewhere, I try my best to find a little peace between the chaos – in our garden, with Penelope-the-cat and on our new kitchen island, listening to music and blogging to you.

A year ago, my life was not so. I’ve been reinventing this life of mine for some time, it seems. Only now, however, am I finally starting to drink in the results.

100% Colombian; splash of almond milk; no sugar.