When I wake up by myself, I generally grab coffee in a styrofoam cup, and maybe a croissant, at the quite good donut shop in the Quincy Center T station, or sometimes grab coffee and a biscotto or a muffin at the little Italian pastry shop on Washington St.
When I wake up with somebody else, sometimes I grind and brew coffee and bake croissants.¹
I like waking up with somebody else better.¹ OK, admittedly these are the kind of croissants that come in a can in the dairy aisle at the supermarket, but still, they come out of the oven warm.
