I’m pretty sure I’m one of those “elites” that conservatives rail against. This morning I’m drinking two cups of coffee, watching the snow land on my Jetta while I listen to NPR on my iMac. Plus, I’m planning on reading a book later.

I’m at my worst when Anne Marie and Cooper go to Charlotte for the weekend. I sleep too much, eat too much, and work too little. When the family is gone, this respectable, dependable man turns into a sloth.

Tonight, I am a sloth with coffee.

I’m enjoying this cup after having had lunch at the Emerywood Cafe, which is a remarkably feminine restaurant. Easily 80% of the patrons there were women.

I wonder if coffee is inherently a masculine or a feminine drink. Does drinking two cups a day make me more manly?

My three-week sabbatical ends today.

Cooper wants some attention. In the past ten minutes he’s wanted to draw, teach me how to play with trucks, and dumped out his toys so that he can look for a Thomas toy.

Anne wants to lie down. She is feeling sick.

I want to drink my coffee.

I’m trying to figure out what to do this morning. I know I’ll drink this cup of coffee, but after that . . .?

I am in a peaceful state. I’d like to be this peaceful all of the time, but I know it is only temporary. I will soon face something that will test my peace. I don’t know what that will be just yet, and it will probably creep up on me instead of hit me all at once. But until it comes, I’ll sit here, listening to jazz, typing on my iPad, drinking my coffee, and enjoying my temporary reprieve from anxiety.

An alcoholic once told me that he has to make a decision every morning before he gets out of bed whether or not he is going to drink that day.

This morning I made a decision that I will complete my syllabi today, and start working on the next writing project. Then I made my cup of coffee.

Walked to campus. Got good exercise. Made a cup. Getting good work done.