Journal January Entry 8: Habits

Journal January — Day 8

Prompt: What’s one habit you romanticize, and one you actually need?

I romanticize making my coffee every morning.

Not drinking it, but making it.

There is a whole ritual to it that feels deeply important to me. I weigh out the beans with care. I grind them myself. I wait for my SMEG espresso machine to warm up and calibrate like it’s performing some sacred internal check. I pay attention. I don’t rush it. I like sourcing good beans from local coffee shops and pretending, for a brief moment, that I am someone with very refined opinions about flavor notes.

It’s quiet. Intentional. Grounding. A small ceremony that signals the beginning of the day.

I tell myself this is about mindfulness. And it is, mostly.

But it’s also about control. About starting the morning with something that works exactly the way it’s supposed to. Something tactile and familiar. Something that doesn’t send emails or ask follow-up questions.

There’s a romance to it. The illusion that I am the kind of person who wakes up slowly, thoughtfully, without urgency. Someone who chooses this ritual purely for the pleasure of it.

Here’s the less poetic truth: I also absolutely need it.

Not in a symbolic way. In a biological, non-negotiable way.

I am deeply, unwaveringly dependent on caffeine.

This habit exists somewhere between aesthetic and necessity. It is both a lovingly curated ritual and a survival mechanism. The calm, intentional version of me and the slightly feral, pre-caffeine version of me have come to an agreement and coffee is the treaty.

And honestly? I’m fine with that.

There’s something grounding about a habit that serves both who I aspire to be and who I actually am. One that can be beautiful and practical at the same time. One that doesn’t require me to pretend I’m above my own needs.

I don’t need every habit to be aspirational. Some of them just need to work.

This one does — consistently, deliciously, and right on time every morning.