The soft ocean breeze hits my body and whispers to me to relax (shhhhhh). I can hear the seagulls. They are softly telling me to keep my eyes closed and just breathe (hushhhhh). There is no place I would rather be. The sound of the… bull horn. That’s a bullhorn. That is a loud freaking bull horn. What the hell is going on? I feel myself being pulled from my beach chair into the air toward that crazy, uncomfortable sound. Why am I going up? Why am I …
Oh. It’s my alarm. It’s 4:30am. Time to make the donuts. If you don’t know what that means, it means I’m old. Continue reading