Audio: [Normally I Don’t Have Breakfast Out](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1vyY977Px5zd7zwKPstRscj1DsJ9Rwh2H/view?usp=drivesdk) Normally, I don’t have breakfast out. On weekdays, I wake up around six thirty, shower, and go straight to the kitchen. I put water on for coffee, open the window a little, and check my phone while the kettle heats up. I usually eat the same thing: toast with butter and a banana. It’s quick, and I know exactly how long it takes. While I eat, I listen to the radio and look at the weather, even though I already know what it’s going to be like. After that, I wash my mug, leave it on the rack, and get dressed. I don’t like rushing in the morning, so I keep everything simple. By seven fifteen, I’m out the door with my bag and my keys in the same pocket as always. On the way to work, I pass three cafés. They’re busy, and people are standing outside with cups in their hands, talking loudly. I notice it, but I don’t stop. At work, my coworkers sometimes ask if I want to grab breakfast downstairs. I usually say no. I already ate, and I don’t like starting the day feeling full. Around ten, I might have another coffee, but that’s it. On weekends, the routine changes a little. I wake up later, make eggs, and sit at the table longer. Even then, I still eat at home. It feels easier, quieter, and more like my day starts the way it should.