I like to drink my coffee with milk, no sugar. But I’m out of milk, and I don’t get paid until this weekend. This shouldn’t be a problem. I can drink tea. I didn’t even like coffee until a few years ago. But this morning, I woke up wanting it. Maybe that had something to do with waking up at quarter to 6.

I made my coffee my regular way, then drank it with sugar, no milk. I liked it. I’m thinking about how we tell ourselves what we like and don’t like, what we can do and can’t. How our parents and teachers tell us the same thing. We’re so quick to decide before we actually try.

I was a very picky eater as a kid. I hated that fatty bit on a pork chop. I ate around bell peppers. I didn’t even want to try raw fish sushi. It took a very long time for me to try new things. I’m still trying to figure out what changed for me because there’s more I want to try, and I haven’t yet been brave enough

(To be fair, I tried coffee. Turns out, my mom loves the darkest roasts, and I really don’t. As with most things in this world, I had to do it myself before I realised I loved it.)

As good as my coffee was hot this morning with oatmeal, it’s even better now, at 2 in the afternoon, with ice.