Morning

So....where do the words come from when you don't have much to write about?? I'm sitting here with my mug of coffee, trying to motivate myself to get to the gym, trying to find something to say, and not having much luck with either! But I keep reading that if you want to be a writer, even a few minutes of 'free association' writing is better than nothing.

So in that spirit, I'm going to tell you about my coffee mug. It's dark blue, marbled through with a bit of white. At the moment, it's half full. Half-full with a mixture of decaf chocolate velvet coffee, light vanilla soy milk, and stevia. Yeah yeah, I know, what self-respecting Seattle-ite drinks decaf? Well I do, if it's brewed at home. For some reason, if I make drip regular coffee here at home, I end up feeling like death from a blood sugar crash 45 minutes after I finish the mug. Why that is, I have no idea. So decaf it is. But back to the mug. This particular ceramic creation is my favorite for totally irrational reasons. I love the dark blue, the weight of it against my palm. And I love it for the ridiculousness that are the call letters scrawled across its front, for a TV station I never worked at. I did spend 5.5 fabulous years slaving away at one of its sister stations, but I never called that little station in Illinois home. You may be wondering how I ended up with said coffee container then. That's easy. It used to belong in the breakroom kitchen of the two-years -ago place of employment. I drank a ton of tea to keep me warm then, and 9 times out of 10 would grab that mug to cart my chai around in. When the time came to move on to greener control rooms, the thought of leaving the mug behind made me a little sad. So I resorted to petty thievery (is that even a word??!) and stashed it in the box 'o stuff from my desk on my way out the door. That silly mug has travelled from Wisconsin, to Providence, and is now in it's second Washington residence. In that respect, the mug has lived more places than my parents have. Then again, so have my cats, but that's beside the point.

Ahh my ridiculous coffee mug trophy. You're always the first one I grab out of the dishwasher. It's an irrational little love, but it makes me happy. Sort of like a security blanket for adults.

There. I've done a little ridiculous writing. I suppose that means I need to motivate myself out the door and down the street to the gym.

I think I'll finish my coffee first.