The Routine

I’m standing in the kitchen, stifling a yawn and rubbing the sleep from my eyes as the timer on the microwave counts slowly down to zero…

When it’s finished, I open the door and remove its contents: a little yogurt cup filled with (now) warm, soapy water. Then, using my free hand, I pick up a recycled pickle jar, a well-worn clear plastic cup (the kind most people just chuck in the garbage), and head out the door.

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