There's a moment every morning, right around 7:15, when the code editor is open but the brain is not. The cursor blinks. I blink back. Nothing happens.
Then the coffee kicks in.
The Protocol
My morning ritual is embarrassingly consistent:
- 6:45 — Wake up. Stare at ceiling. Question career choices.
- 7:00 — First cup. Black. No negotiation.
- 7:15 — Open laptop. Pretend to read Slack.
- 7:30 — Second cup. Brain comes online.
- 8:00 — Actually write code.
( (
) )
._______.
| |]
\ /
`-----'
The ritual matters more than the caffeine. It's a signal to the brain: we're doing this now.
The Deep Work Window
I've noticed my best code happens between 8 AM and noon. After lunch, I'm basically a QA engineer — good at finding problems, less good at solving them.
So I protect those morning hours like a dragon guards gold. No meetings before 10. No Slack until the first PR is up. The world can wait until I've shipped something.
The Diminishing Returns
Here's what I've learned about coffee:
- Cup 1: Essential. Non-negotiable.
- Cup 2: Productive. The sweet spot.
- Cup 3: Jittery. Commit messages get weird.
- Cup 4: Mistakes. Reverts incoming.
Three cups is the edge of the cliff. Four cups is the fall.
Why Rituals Work
The coffee itself isn't magic. It's the consistency. My brain has learned: hot bitter liquid = time to focus. It's Pavlovian, and I'm fine with that.
Some people have elaborate morning routines. Meditation, journaling, cold showers. I just have coffee and a terminal. It's enough.
The simplest ritual you'll actually do beats the elaborate one you'll abandon by Tuesday.
Now if you'll excuse me, cup two is getting cold.