6 January 2021
Everything in my body was telling me to reach for decaf this morning. Except for the bit of me that could actually reach it (my short arms). So regular coffee it is. I’ll probably be fine, despite this being my fourth consecutive day of hormonal headache and the work/new year/ pandemic-induced background hum of anxiety. I’ll only have one anyway before switching to lemon and ginger tea. We ran out of teabags, and despite throwing the empty box away I hadn’t really understood that this meant no more tea. We’re trying not to go out, and have so far been lucky enough to get almost everything we’ve needed delivered - except for headache tablets and Frankie’s playmat, which seems to be missing from this morning’s IKEA order (a massive box, containing a small box of tiny doll’s house furniture). And tea.
In a panic yesterday afternoon I looked at how we could get some teabags dropped off via Deliveroo. £12! A delivery fee and a ‘small item charge’. Are we desperate enough? £12! We still have some old decaf teabags from when I was pregnant, but they taste a bit odd. Sort of soapy. There’s one solitary bag I’ve been saving for my love because he’s not one to go without anything, really. Especially tea.
I’ll just have this one coffee, though, then I can either summon up the energy to use the little step to actually reach the decaf, or just have a herbal tea. Only making for me anyway, as G’s gone back to bed for a quick snooze before work - claiming back the nap he would have had on the train, and making up for me bringing the toddler into our bed when he woke up just before 6am, when he happily snuggled up beside me counting the spots on my pyjama sleeve in a slightly menacing whisper, dummy hanging half out of his mouth.
Can’t just have water. Can’t have nothing. It’s cold and it’s quiet and there’s work to do and it’s a childcare day. Can’t have nothing when there’s all of that. I’ll just have this one coffee.
I finish the cup just before my morning call starts. Perfect timing - I got to enjoy it alone myself, and not worry about spilling or choking or other video call faux pas.
I definitely should have had decaf. I’ve hardly started and already have seven tabs open on my screen, and our morning meeting is overrunning. His has finished though, by the sounds of the footsteps coming down the stairs. He disappears into the kitchen whilst I talk about analytics and paywalls and uppercase letters.
He hears us finishing up and brings me in a mug.
“Coffee?! I already... Yes. OK. Thanks, love”
He scurries back upstairs.
A sarcastically huge grin forms in the bubbles on the surface.