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They are my go-to.

Instead of turning on the television, I curl into the corner of the couch with a blanket and the book I’ve been slowly making my way through all week.

It’s a book about attachment theory.

Probably not the average person’s choice before bed.

Occupational hazard.

I underline a paragraph, dog-ear a page, and make a note in the margin to recommend one of the exercises to a client later this week.

Learning has always been one of my favorite ways to love the people I serve.

At exactly nine-fifteen, my phone chimes from the coffee table.

Not a text.

An alarm.

Bedtime.

Every night.

Without fail.

Routine isn’t boring.

Routine is what makes everything else possible.

I close my book, slide the bookmark between the pages, and carry my mug to the kitchen. By the time I brush my teeth, wash my face, and plug my phone into the charger beside my bed, I’m usually asleep within ten minutes.

That’s usually how it goes.

But tonight, I make the mistake of checking my notifications.

Luke has approved your follow request.

I blink, then open his Instagram.

He has a mustache.

Which would’ve been an immediate no yesterday.

Today...I’m starting to question everything I thought I knew about facial hair.

I pinch the screen and zoom in.

Yep.

Still a mustache.

Apparently there’s a difference between creepy mustaches and...whatever Luke has going on.

Who knew?

Certainly not me.

I scroll to the next picture.