How can it be exactly the same?
I yawned and suddenly burst out laughing. I was waiting at a red light near my home, driving back from a nearby cafe after picking up an iced decaf Americano.
This is just like a movie!
I had recently watched Edge of Tomorrow again. Tom Cruise dies fighting aliens, only to wake up right where he started. He opens his eyes. The same sergeant shows up, with the same expression, saying the same thing. Again and again.
He dies and wakes up countless times before eventually saving the world. But it’s those repeated scenes that always make me laugh.
Maybe that was why the movie popped into my head so quickly. For the third afternoon in a row, I found myself doing almost the same thing around three o’clock.
I decided to write down what happened over those four days.
Saturday
My husband and I had just finished a round of golf at a par-three course and were putting our golf bags into the trunk when my daughter called.
“Could you pick up an iced decaf Americano for me on your way home?”
It was around 1:45 in the afternoon.
“Sure. I think we’ll be home around three.”
My husband and I stopped at a nearby restaurant for acorn jelly soup with rice before heading home.
As soon as we entered the highway, I closed my eyes in the passenger seat and fell asleep. I woke up shortly before we reached the tollgate, about twenty minutes later.
“You were snoring away,” my husband said with a smile.
“Really?”
“No, I’m kidding. You were sleeping quietly.”
I had felt as though I was simply resting with my eyes closed. I kept yawning.
“Haah… Since we’re stopping at the cafe anyway, shall I get you a coffee too?”
“Sure. And a red-bean bun.”
My husband waited in the car while I went inside and ordered three decaf Americanos—two iced ones for him and my daughter, and a hot one for myself.
I was going to buy just one sweet red-bean bun for my husband, but then I thought I might want some too. So I bought two.
When we reached our apartment, my husband said he would stay in the parking lot for a while. I went upstairs alone. It was just after three when I opened the front door.
“Thank you!”
My daughter smiled as she took her coffee.
“Did you have fun?”
“Yes! It was funny. I hit my tee shot straight onto the green, and Dad couldn’t get his onto it. It felt as though we’d switched places.”
“Oh, that sounds fun. I thought I’d need some coffee to study.”
She sat at the table with her coffee and continued preparing for her midterm exams, which were starting the following week.
I put my husband’s coffee in the refrigerator and left his bun on the desk in his study.
Then I settled into my bedroom chair with my own coffee and bun. The warmth of the hot Americano seemed to relax my body after golf.
I must have had quite a workout today. We even had lunch, and I’m still enjoying this bun.
I was tearing off small pieces of the bun when my daughter came into my room.
“Want half? I think a whole one is too much for me.”
“Sure!”
I handed her the remaining half.
But somehow, I began to feel uncomfortable.
I had already started filling the bathtub, adding a little magnesium and salt. I settled in the warm water and stayed about five minutes longer than usual.
Was it the bun? Did I stay in the bath too long? Or had I eaten too much at lunch?
I felt tired. I took a cool sheet mask from the refrigerator, put it on my face, and lay down to take a fifteen-minute rest.
Sunday
“I feel like going out for a bit. Want me to pick up some coffee?”
My daughter liked the idea.
“I’m going out for coffee. Do you want one too?” I asked my husband.
“Of course. And a bun.”
He smiled.
As I walked toward the parking lot, I looked at my phone. It was around 2:45 p.m.
I drove to the cafe and ordered three decaf Americanos again, two iced and one hot. I looked at the sweet red-bean buns on display and picked up just one this time.
On the drive home, I kept yawning.
When I opened our front door, it was around three.
“Thank you! Coffee really helps me study,” my daughter said, smiling as she took her coffee.
My husband was pleased with his coffee and bun too.
I carried my hot Americano into my bedroom and said to my daughter, “I don’t think that red-bean bun agreed with me yesterday.”
“Really? I liked it.”
“Maybe sweet buns just don’t suit me.”
I took out a small packet of nuts and dried fruit from the cupboard and sat down with my coffee.
I haven’t had these in a while. I wonder how they’ll taste.
After eating a few pieces, I stopped. They didn’t feel particularly good either.
Then I took out some whole-wheat crackers I’d bought a few days earlier. I opened one small packet and ate the crackers slowly with my warm coffee. They tasted nice enough, but afterward I didn’t feel particularly good.
I took another warm bath, adding a little magnesium and salt as I had the day before.
Maybe afternoon coffee doesn’t suit me. Or maybe I don’t need snacks at this time of day.
My body felt heavy. I took another cool sheet mask from the refrigerator, put it on, and lay down to take a fifteen-minute rest.
Then I laughed to myself.
“Oh, this is fun.”
Monday
It was around 2:40 in the afternoon.
My daughter had just finished taking a bath, and I was filling the tub for myself when she asked, “Mom, could you pick up some coffee for me? I think I need it to study.”
“Sure. Good thing you asked before I got into the bath.”
I got dressed and headed out.
At the cafe, I ordered just one iced decaf Americano for my daughter.
I had already drunk a cup of lightly brewed drip coffee at home that morning and another hot Americano at the cafe around 10:30. I’d also eaten plenty that day—vegetable gimbap, noodles, and a few lettuce wraps with leftover steamed pork.
I didn’t feel like having any more coffee or food, so I bought nothing for myself. My husband had lunch plans and had already gone out.
I got back into the car and drove home.
Near my apartment, I stopped at a red light.
Haah…
I yawned.
And suddenly I burst out laughing.
“Oh, this is so funny!”
It was around three when I opened the front door.
“Thank you!”
My daughter took the coffee and drank it while studying.
I slipped into the warm bath I’d already prepared. This time, I felt fine afterward.
Oh. Maybe the bath wasn’t the problem after all. Was it something I ate? Or was it because I’d eaten right before getting into the bath?
Then I remembered that I’d sometimes taken a bath immediately after dinner without feeling uncomfortable.
Well, perhaps that wasn’t it either.
After my bath, I was about to lie down for my fifteen-minute rest when something else occurred to me.
“Oh, that’s right! I did this yesterday too!”
I laughed again.
Tuesday
It was raining.
My daughter’s midterm exams would begin the following day. Her classes finished earlier than usual.
She’d had nothing that morning except an iced Americano.
“How about some spicy rice cakes?” she asked.
“Sure. Spicy rice cakes sound good on a rainy day.”
We went to a restaurant near her university and enjoyed some hot, spicy rice cakes. We ate just enough to feel satisfied and headed home.
Before leaving home, I’d prepared the ingredients for chive pancakes. When we returned, I started cooking them for my son.
I was nearly finished when my daughter asked, “Mom, could you pick up some coffee after you’re done?”
“Of course.”
I glanced at the clock.
“Oh, it’s only one thirty!”
I laughed again.
Around two, as I walked toward the elevator, another thought came to me.
Well, no wonder I’m tired.
I’d worked on my blog until eleven the previous night to publish a post. That morning, I’d started writing again, driven my daughter to university and picked her up, gone out for lunch, and come home to cook.
I’d been moving almost constantly.
Maybe there was a simple reason I’d been feeling sleepy around that time of day.
At the cafe, I picked up just one iced decaf Americano for my daughter. Again, nothing for myself.
Around 2:20, the elevator doors opened on my floor. My husband was standing there, about to head out.
“Oh, I’d like some coffee too,” he said with a smile.
“Have one while you’re out.”
“I have dinner plans.”
I stepped out, and he got in.
As I walked up the few steps toward our front door, another thought came to me.
I feel like taking a bath.
I remembered how I used to practice golf whenever I felt tired, stiff, or restless in the afternoon. Moving my body had been my way of releasing that feeling.
But lately, I hadn’t felt the need to do that anymore. I played golf when I felt like playing, and a warm bath had become another pleasant way to relax when I was tired.
Ah, maybe that’s why I’ve been wanting a bath in the afternoon lately.
I couldn’t be sure, of course.
My Own Time Loop
Tom Cruise was fighting aliens to save the world. I was doing something remarkably similar in my everyday family life, trying to make things better.
Eventually, people believed him. They followed his lead, and he won.
Real life didn’t work quite that way.
My family wasn’t an army fighting the same battle. Everyone had their own thoughts, their own plans, and their own lives.
Sometimes they didn’t listen. Sometimes they insisted on doing things their own way. And I couldn’t possibly know everything that was going on in their lives.
Still, I kept observing, predicting, and adjusting. When I thought I’d found a better way, I tried to explain it. If that didn’t work, I looked for another way.
The more I tried to make things work, the more responsibility I seemed to take on. And when things went wrong, I often felt that the responsibility—and sometimes the blame—came back to me.
There was less and less room for me.
Eventually, I began to wonder what I was doing.
So I paused.
It wasn’t easy at first. I was so used to anticipating what might be needed and stepping in before anyone asked. But little by little, I learned to watch without rushing to fix or adjust anything.
And gradually, that became natural.
I still notice things. But I no longer have to turn every observation into a plan.
During those four afternoons, I hadn’t tried to change a single routine. Yet the number of coffees I bought had changed. The timing had changed. Even my reasons for wanting a warm bath were different.
Each day brought something new, and I responded to what was actually happening.
I had thought I was repeating the same afternoon over and over.
But I wasn’t.
