Act I. FUEL [ Sandwiches, toasts, coffee]

I could never become one of those who woke up at five a.m. to run. Never a fan of celery juice either. It reminded me of an awful flight snack.

I simply woke up two hours early, because my butter toast needs focus. Coffee and omelets deserve a clean empty room and my full attention.

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Morning 1-10

Mozzarella Omelet Open Sandwich

Smoked Beef Maple Mayo Sandwich

Butter Sugar Toast

Galbi Sauce Luncheon Beef Sandwich

Oyster Sauce Grilled Chicken Thigh Sandwich

Chicken Frankfurter Garlic Butter Toast

Butter Prata with Condensed Milk

Tuna Mayo Kimchee Toast

Crumbly Apple Sauce

Dark Chocolate, Medjool Date and Gayo V60

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Morning 1

Mozzarella Omelet Open Sandwich

For twenty years and seven months, I was good at remembering everyone’s deadlines, app release versions, product launches, quarterly business alignment, someone’s promotion. I could tell how a meeting would end from the footsteps coming to the room—

I got this.

Before everyone woke up, the neighborhood birds chirping so loudly, I wondered where they’d be after seven a.m.

I still had a hundred minutes that belonged only to me. Warm knife slicing the cold butter. I learnt that great egg-wrap would never cooperate well with impatience. Soft, confident fold, just enough to wrap around the cheese. The rest of the heat does its melty wonder.

I, too, will soon melt into the slightly burnt routine.

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Morning 2

Smoked Beef Maple Mayo Sandwich

I’m good at maneuvering peacefully. Practice does make permanence. Sometime back after my twelfth year of this, it’s always black sweater and pants every Monday or Wednesday. I was a colorful one, at least I remembered that much. I grab a Batik scarf hurriedly. On instinct? Maybe.

Wait, is today Monday? Or maybe Wednesday? I stopped remembering what day it was, ‘cause days faded quickly. Except breakfast. Breakfast still knew who I am before everyone else texted, “Please follow up a.s.a.p.”.

The fatty smoked beef crackled.

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Morning 3

Butter Sugar Toast

I measured humans’ worth by productivity. A meritocratic regime I grew up in. How many DONE in my sixteen-line to-do list from the start of the day. I thought I could keep climbing on just like this. So I did.

Toast slowly. It is not yet the end of the world. The drama heated up. The slow burn was good.

Slightly bitter-caramelized life.

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Morning 4

Galbi Sauce Luncheon Beef Sandwich

There’s a weird sense of satisfaction when you pop open a luncheon meat can clean with a firm push. Felt like a lucky day.

I’ll attack today the same way. Firm. Capable. Sauteed luncheon meat. A prep for war. Why so serious?

Gently coating my ration with saucy goodness. Back and forth. The bubbly sauce browned the meat. Seasoned with patience. It takes practice. So deserving of soft white bread. A reciprocity that we seldom experience in meetings.

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Morning 5

Oyster Sauce Grilled Chicken Thigh Sandwich

The chopped garlic in the pan oozed. Euphoria.

At some point the obsession with the idealized career became drive. Drive became confidence. Resisting had no easy off-switch. Must be human nature. Wanting more.

Redirection. I starved the urge to check my phone on autopilot. A lo-fi music I played softly on the background sounded richer with the beat of crackling chicken skin and the hissing oil. Oyster sauce mirror-glazed the chicken.

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Morning 6

Chicken Frankfurter Garlic Butter Toast

My boss always scheduled meetings at eight a.m. ‘Productive people start early!’ I did believe so, too.

Gooseneck kettle hissed. Mini frankfurters twisted and turned in the pan. Somehow looking uneasy. What is there to worry about? Toast on repeat. Dusted some sugar. As if breakfast is my religion.

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Morning 7

Butter Prata with Condensed Milk

Bread is out. But I got prata.

Simple science— pair the best butter with the simplest carb. Then condensed milk drizzled sweetly like the praises that created cavities in my ideals. You know the cringe that lurked behind the confirmation.

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Morning 8

Tuna Mayo Kimchi Toast

Tuna mayo never goes wrong with cucumber. Like office collaboration needs a certain pacifist standard.

But the green was out when I needed the crunch. Could kimchi do the job? Much stronger than cucumber. I was always a tad punchy. Not sure I could change who I am.

The kimchi did justice to the combo.

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Morning 9

Crumbly Apple Sauce

Cubed apple, cinnamon sugar & spice, stewed sweet and sour. Crumbled Marie biscuits spiraling to the sides of the bowl. My fingers are tingling.

No room for uncertainty in the mind of the experienced. I protect the brain from the curse of over-planning.

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Morning 10

Dark Chocolate, Medjool Date and Gayo V60

I Didn’t Cook. A Functional Adult will not complain about how hard the day is going to be.

“I could do this.”

I could feel the tension on my fingertip. Presentation for the final boss and other few hundred viewers. Took the best bean on the shelves, the strongest caffeine. Freshly ground Gayo, medium dark roasted, ceramic V60, black Japanese lacquer drink ware. Ninety-degree Celsius steaming water in the shiny gooseneck kettle.

First bloom, my kitchen came alive.

One Medjool date, one oddly cracked piece of dark chocolate. An interval.

Second bloom, my soul settled firm.

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