I overslept this morning. When John, the fully-clothed early bird, stopped back in the bedroom to wake me up, I asked him what day it was. I couldn't believe it wasn't Saturday. I fast-forwarded through the morning routine and drove Bridget all of 50 feet to the bus stop because it was raining. We waited for the bus as we tried to get stupid songs stuck in each other's head for the day. The mug pictured above has been with me since college, and it was with me through this morning's conundrum. I don't know why coffee tastes the best in it.