Your hand th-waps your night stand, grasping for your mobile device to swipe and to silence the iPhone marimba alarm tone. Once the disturbance to your sleep is silenced, you pause, process a death and slow breath, and liberate yourself from the tomb of your bedsheets. Perhaps you slip into your slippers. Or your robe. Or your Spongebob Pj’s. Whatever this morning’s attire, you make your mission for the kitchen, fill the kettle with water,...