I can't seem to shake this routine of wide awake at zero four hundred in the dadgum morning. Even the moon remains in slumber. Owls have taken to their nest and snore. Me, on my second cup of coffee and the clock just flipped to 0502.
I'm stuck in a rut but have mastered the art of the perfect over easy egg.
To matters worse my newspaper is late, and I hear thunder.
It'll be a long day.