At the moment, for example, I am doing that thing I had forgotten I used to do. I hold the cup softly against one cheek. Then, when the steam has clouded that spectacle lens, I roll the cup across my face (or more specifically, across the tip of my nose) and I hold the cup in the opposite hand and against the opposite cheek, allowing that lens to fog while the other one clears.
The cup, which is thin ceramic and painted a delicate shade of green is perfect for this sort of thing.
I suppose there’s metaphor in there somewhere, in looking at life through half-fogged spectacles, or if not metaphor then poetry at the very least, but I don’t have time to dwell on that now. I need to get back to the doing of things I’d forgotten I used to do. It only works when the coffee is hot, not once it’s cooled to warm.