Why My Day Starts with Salsa... and Ends with Spanglish Daydreams

We all have those odd little routines that keep us sane—whether it’s meticulously arranging throw pillows on a perfectly made bed (okay, Monica Geller) or whispering affirmations into your coffee like it’s a life coach in liquid form. My day, though? Let’s just say it’s sprinkled with a little bit of spice, a hint of nostalgia, and more accidental metaphors than I’m comfortable admitting.

Here’s a peek into my life—a mix of heritage, humor, and heart. Think Celia Cruz meets Mindy Lahiri. And yes, it’s as quirky as it sounds.

The Morning Rhythm: Café Con Leche and Salsa Moves

I should start by saying I’m not a morning person. My bed? My soulmate. But alarms wait for no one, and neither do my dreams of productivity. So, I drag myself awake at 7:00 a.m. to the sound of salsa music. Some people rise to gentle wind chimes or those urban rainforest soundtracks. Not me. I’m jolted into glorious existence by Celia Cruz proclaiming, “¡Azúcar!”

Once my feet hit the floor (yo no creo en snooze buttons), it’s a straight line to the kitchen. The first ritual of the day: making café con leche the way my abuela taught me. Warm milk with a hint of Cuban espresso—not too sweet, not too bitter. I drink it slowly, leaning against the counter, scrolling through IG memes I shouldn’t be laughing at before 8 a.m.

Some mornings, depending on how fiery my mood is, I’ll throw in a mini salsa dance to the playlist. My kitchen is my dance floor, my cat Luna is the audience (she is not impressed), and suddenly life doesn’t seem so heavy. A shimmy here, a spin there—10 minutes of dancing, and I swear, the dopamine is better than a workout app.

Midday: Deadlines, Spanglish, and Emojis

By 10:00 a.m., I’ve swapped my dancing shoes (read: fuzzy socks) for my writer hat. I dive headfirst into deadlines. There’s something very honest about the creative mess I thrive in: a desk piled with notepads, my laptop buzzing with open tabs, and a mug that says “Ya Tu Sabes” staring me down like it’s keeping score.

Being a writer often means stealing inspiration from the most random experiences. That email I got from my mom in all caps (“MIJA, CALL ME ASAP”)? Instant story starter. Or the time my friend called saying her recent date mispronounced croqueta and the betrayal almost made her cry. Yes, these moments go straight into my articles.

Writing is also when my bilingual brain works overtime. I’ll frantically type sentences in English while thinking in Spanish, and sure enough, words like “chancleta” (flip-flop) and “el vibe” creep into drafts. Toss in emojis to drive the point home, and voilà—Spanglish in its full, chaotic glory.

Do I take breaks? Sort of. A mid-afternoon walk in Little Havana is the closest thing I have to meditation. But instead of ohm chants, I have the smell of fresh pastelitos and Calle Ocho’s bustling energy fueling my imagination.

Later Afternoon: The “Yes, Food Is My Love Language” Phase

3:00 p.m. hits, hunger strikes, and we need to talk about my borderline spiritual connection with Cuban food. There’s a vestige of family tradition in every dish I eat—and yes, I get theatrical about my meals (I won’t apologize).

If I’m not cooking up something from my abuela’s arsenal of recipes, like black beans that simmer for hours or ropa vieja (a tender shredded beef stew that tastes like nostalgia), then I’m taste-testing my neighborhood’s bakeries like I’m hosting Top Chef: Miami Edition. Each bite might be “research” (or at least that’s what I tell myself).

Food is also how I reconnect with people. Half the relationships in my life have been built over a shared plate of croquetas, and nothing says “I care about you” quite like a box of guava pastelitos showing up at someone’s doorstep.

Evening Magic: Sunsets and Stories

By 6:00 p.m., the golden hour cascades through my windows, and suddenly, Miami becomes too beautiful to ignore. This is peak introspection time for me. I take my journal, sit near the window, and jot down whatever characters, scene ideas, or observations about love bubble up.

One thing I learned early on about city living is this: sunsets force you to slow down. It’s a moment to stop the constant scrolling, stop freaking out about meeting deadlines, and just breathe. If I’m lucky, that pause offers clarity for a question that’s always softly there: What’s next to explore in love or in life?

Nighttime Rituals: Telenovela-Worthy Conversations

By 9:00 p.m., I’m on my couch (finally), fingers crossed for an evening free of delivery mishaps or “U up?” texts. I’ll FaceTime my mom for our nightly gossip session, which feels less like a catch-up and more like an impromptu telenovela. Did she hear about my cousin’s boyfriend bringing store-bought flan to a family party? Did I hear about how Abuela flirted with our neighbor at the Baptist church’s bingo night? Needless to say, her updates easily beat Netflix.

Then, ever the romantic at heart, I’ll dig into a fiction book—something that balances my life on the borderline ‘enchanted yet realistic’ when it comes to love. Nights like these are for stories where couples defy odds or finally say what they mean mid-rainstorm (yes, I did sob reading Normal People).

What My Day Teaches Me About Connection

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my daily rituals and rhythm, it’s this: every choice we make—whether it’s starting your morning with music or sharing food with loved ones—is an effort to strengthen connection.

Every salsa step, each bilingual quip, all the heartbreaks-turned-stories—they’re woven into my day not as random acts, but meaningful rituals that root me in some kind of magic. They remind me to laugh at the absurdities of life, stay grounded in love and tradition, and never stop searching for ways to deepen connections with others.

So, whether you’re sipping your own coffee with whispered affirmations or figuring out your unique salsa step in life, here’s my reminder: keep weaving that magic into your day. It matters. And, quite honestly, it makes the world a little more flavorful—and a lot more fun.