A Morning Routine That’s Anything but Ordinary

I used to think mornings were for people who starred in yogurt commercials—cheerful, accomplished, and somehow glowing before coffee. But my mornings? Let’s just say they’re a little less “sun-kissed strolls” and a little more “where did I leave my other sock?” That said, I’ve got a groove to my day that works for me, quirks and all. And while this isn’t a glossy Instagram aesthetic, it’s real, it’s caffeinated, and it just might inspire you to weave a little unexpected joy into your own routine.

The Symphony of Alarms and Affirmations (6:00 AM – 7:00 AM)

First of all, I’m not a single-alarm person. I need the backup, backup alarm. My phone starts vibrating at 6:00 a.m. (gentle persuasion) and progresses to a battle cry by 6:15. The reason for this overly dramatic start? I’ve conditioned myself to wake up to Lizzo’s “Good as Hell” blasting, because if I’m going to drag myself out of bed, I need a pep talk in song form.

Before I even brush my teeth, I grab my phone and open the Notes app, scrolling to the affirmations I jotted down the night before. These aren’t your run-of-the-mill “you’re doing great” vibes. I like mine spicy: “You’re giving Viola Davis meets Rihanna energy today.” “Your ancestors are applauding AND sending heart eyes, sis.” What can I say? A girl’s gotta hype herself up.

How a Coffee Ritual Becomes a Love Language (7:15 AM – 8:00 AM)

Let me tell you something about my coffee game—it’s a production. I grind my beans like a mad scientist, inhaling their rich aroma while the water boils in a copper kettle my grandmother gifted me. (I’m convinced this kettle holds ancestral powers, though it’s probably just old.)

Once the drip begins, I close my eyes and take a moment to breathe. It’s not meditation in the traditional sense—no lotus pose or calming app in sight. Instead, it’s me standing in my kitchen, imagining the possibilities of the day ahead. Who might I meet? Who could text me out of the blue? Could today be the day I finally master patience—or at least not yell at my laptop?

Coffee in hand, I sit by my window overlooking Charleston’s marshlands, letting the view whisper to me. It’s always the same song: resilience, beauty, and stillness. And maybe a not-so-subtle nudge to drink water.

Emails, Errands, and the Unexpected Lessons in Connection (9:00 AM – 12:00 PM)

As a writer, the romance of crafting sentences often feels more notebook-in-a-café and less “oh no, I’ve been staring at my inbox for 40 minutes.” This is prime work time for me, where I toggle between outlining an article on relationships and revising a chapter of historical fiction.

I like to break up the grind with what I call “micro-moments of connection.” That might mean chatting with my neighbor Curtis (who feeds the strays) or texting my best friend a meme involving a very judgmental cat and a side-eye that captures my current mood. Small, lighthearted things to remind me that even in my most productive hours, life is happening—and it’s worth noticing.

And speaking of noticing, I occasionally spy on the couple across the street who jog together every morning. Are they soulmates, or just co-conspirators clinging to their fitness goals? Either way, Godspeed to them.

The Sacred Dance of Midday Movement (12:30 PM – 1:30 PM)

I’m not the type to spend hours at the gym. But a lunchtime walk along the cobblestone streets of Charleston? That’s my version of active self-care. I slip on my sneakers and head out, weaving through live oaks and pastel houses while imagining the love stories these homes could tell.

Every now and then, I stop to talk to shop owners or street artists. There’s this one jewelry vendor who sells oyster shell earrings and tells epic stories about her exes while she polishes your new purchase. It’s in these moments that I’m reminded how vital it is to stay open—to not just scroll past life, but live it.

Dinner, Blue Crab, and Dating Advice From Grandma (6:00 PM – 7:30 PM)

Dinner in my house can be as simple as good fried chicken or as elaborate as a coastal treasure hunt. Last week, I braved a seafood market to tackle fresh blue crab. Believe me, there’s nothing like sparring with crab claws while being on a FaceTime call with your grandma.

“I hope you cook for him one day,” she said, referencing a date I’d casually mentioned weeks ago. “But not for free. You keep your worth, honey. These crabs worked for theirs, so why not you?” My grandmother might not subscribe to Cosmopolitan, but trust me, her advice is solid.

Quiet Evenings, Big Dreams (8:30 PM – 10:00 PM)

As the day winds down, I trade my laptop for a notebook. Between work priorities and the noise of the world, I find it grounding to write by hand. These aren’t journal entries, per se, but meandering thoughts, dreams, or a poem inspired by a Gullah tale my grandparents told me.

I’m the last to call myself a hopeless romantic, but there’s something deeply satisfying about ending the day imagining all the connections yet to come—some fleeting, some lasting, some leading to entirely new chapters of life.

And before I turn off my light? I re-read one of Toni Morrison’s most liberating truths: “You are your best thing.” If that doesn’t help me sleep soundly, nothing will.

Takeaway Time: Crafting a Rhythm of Your Own

So, what’s the moral of this tale? You don’t need a perfect morning, a big gesture, or a rigorous plan to make your day a little more meaningful. Whether you’re pouring thoughtful energy into your coffee ritual, sneaking extra words of affirmation into your Notes app, or just pausing long enough to text a friend, life is built on these small, intentional moments.

Whatever twists and turns your day takes, know that there’s beauty in the quirks, the pauses, and even the chaos. After all, it’s not about having it all figured out—it’s about showing up, one sock (and one overhyped alarm) at a time.