Whiskey at Sunrise, Beyoncé at Full Volume, and a Daily Dance with the Unexpected
Look, mornings and I have one of those love-hate relationships. Some days, we vibe like Luther Vandross crooning "Never Too Much" on a rainy Sunday, and other days, it feels like I'm stuck trying to two-step with a partner who keeps stomping on my feet. But life has taught me that routines—however messy, weird, or downright eccentric—are often what keep us grounded. So here it is: a no-holds-barred look at a day in my life, complete with unfiltered quirks, coffee spills, and a playlist that would make Solange proud.
Morning Missions: Coffee, Whiskey (Yes, Whiskey), and Affirmations
The alarm clock screams at 7:00 a.m., but I’m not a "jump out of bed with an Instagram-ready glow" type of person. Instead, I negotiate with my snooze button like it’s a hostage situation until around 7:30.
Step one is coffee. Don’t talk to me; don’t look at me; don’t even breathe near me until I’ve had that first sacred sip. And here’s where things turn... unconventional. Instead of creamer, I’ll dabble a tiny splash of whiskey into my cup. Relax—it's not as scandalous as it sounds. Think of it as a morning reminder that joy exists in the smallest rituals. Plus, my grandmother used to do the same thing, though she swore it "kept the arthritis away." We know better now, but some traditions are too good to let go.
I pair this liquid courage with my daily affirmations. Now, before you roll your eyes, hear me out: I keep them grounded and personal. Something like, “Today’s challenges won’t break you, Marc. Remember Beaumont and keep pushing.” It’s like giving my inner James Baldwin a pep talk before facing the day.
Work-from-Home Realness: Sweatpants and Sophistication
By 9:00 a.m., I’m parked at my desk (fine, my dining table) tackling assignments and emails. Writing about love, relationships, and all their messy intricacies is a wild ride, but the sociologist in me thrives on asking the deeper questions. Why do we swipe instead of show up? Why does ghosting hurt worse than a bad haircut?
Mid-morning, there’s a mandatory dance break. Don’t judge me—it’s science. Studies show that movement boosts creativity, and besides, who doesn’t feel a rush of god-tier power doing the choreography to Beyoncé’s "Formation"? Some mornings, the neighbors might catch me through cracked blinds, hitting a body roll so fierce, they’d think I was auditioning for a "Homecoming" sequel. (Spoiler alert: I’m not, but a gay man can dream.)
Pro tip: If you’re ever stuck on a work project, put on your favorite playlist, shake your stress out for five minutes, and then get back to business. It’s like hitting the reset button—but with rhythm.
A Southern Lunch with a Dash of Sentimentality
When the clock hits noon-ish, it’s time to eat. More often than not, I find myself making my mom’s gumbo recipe. Yes, it’s extra for lunch, and yes, it’s totally worth it. The act of chopping onions and stirring roux is meditative, connecting me to family traditions stretching back generations. Food is love, y’all—it’s history, healed trauma, and cultural resistance all simmered into one pot.
Somewhere between the chicken-andouille sausage combo and the first bite that makes me hum with satisfaction, I remind myself how important it is to preserve these kinds of traditions, especially as someone who’s part of multiple communities shaped by resilience. Who says you can’t build a better world over a good meal—one bowl at a time?
Afternoon Adventures: Writing and People-Watching
Afternoons are for diving deeper into creative work, whether I’m brainstorming article ideas or revising that novel I swore I’d publish before the next presidential election. (Spoiler alert: progress is slow, but the dream lives on.)
Sometimes, when writer’s block rears its ugly head, I take a stroll around the neighborhood. There’s something inspiring about the way life moves—messy, unpredictable, and full of quiet moments that turn extraordinary if you squint hard enough. I once saw a couple arguing on a porch, their voices hushed but their eyes electric with longing. Were they breaking up? Making up? I didn’t stick around to find out, but their intensity stayed with me, shaping a story about love on the brink.
Evening Grace: Self-Care with a Side of Nostalgia
By 6:00 p.m., my workday is done, and the second-wave introvert in me craves familiarity. First, I light a sandalwood candle and dim the lights like I’m preparing for a séance (but really, just a skincare routine). There’s something undeniably grounding about slathering on moisturizer and whispering, “You’re still cute, Marc,” at my reflection.
Dinner is often a solo affair with a plate of food and an E. Lynn Harris novel—because few things pair better than an author who understood intimacy and a man craving stories that affirm love’s possibilities. Occasionally, I'll throw on a classic film like "Paris Is Burning" and marvel at how the LGBTQ+ trailblazers of the past redefined style, strength, and survival. Plus, rewatching it for the umpteenth time puts my day into perspective.
Love in Unexpected Places: Life as a Work in Progress
If there’s one truth running through my days, it’s this: love shows up in the least expected places. It’s there in my morning cup of coffee spiked with memories, in the neighborhood couple fighting for connection, and even in the gumbo pot whispering stories from generations past. Romance and relationships might headline my writing, but my daily rituals remind me that love begins with small, private acts of care.
And no, my life isn’t Instagram-filter perfect. There are late utility bills, Wi-Fi failures, and more chaotic moments than I’d like to admit. But there’s beauty in the imperfection, in the way we learn to improvise happiness while life keeps throwing us curveballs.
So whether you’re navigating your own routines or rediscovering what makes your heart skip a beat, remember: the dance of life isn’t about hitting every step—it’s about feeling the rhythm, building connection, and letting yourself twirl.
