suburban mornings

I’m at home in the Maryland suburbs, visiting family for the holidays. Except I’m not – I’m actually sitting at a Starbucks, with my tall Americano and a “maple oat nut” scone, reading a sprinkling of news articles from the WSJ, Economist, and NYTimes.

Since I’ve come back, I’ve woken up every morning, gotten in the car, and driven 10 minutes down the road to this single Starbucks within pretty much a 15-20 mile radius to have a cup of coffee and read the morning news.

This drives my parents insane – but there’s coffee and internet connection at home! But it’s not that. And it’s not specifically Starbucks either, not really. Old habits die hard. I love/have to start my mornings at a cafe, and in New York, this would be nothing out of the ordinary. I guess it’s the smell of roasted beans, and the routine bustling amongst familiar strangers in the morning. On a good day, I’d hop out of bed and out for a short morning jog, then drop by the cafe next door for a morning fix. Or on a sluggish day, I’d roll out of bed, and drag myself down to the cafe – the best part of waking up. Everyone does this!

But as I sit here and watch the empty tree-lined streets, it is slowly occurring to me just how odd this habit would be if I actually lived here – to make an entire trip out of a simple morning routine (which makes me realize that the baristas here must wonder why I’m here so often!) Morning activity happens within the privacy of one’s own home, nothing is left out to the public until all is washed, polished, and ready to be presented. So suburban.

Man, I miss New York.