It is 5:40 in the morning, and I am almost one coffee deep. The moon was full last night, and even though dawn has not yet broken, there is natural light peeking through my blinds. Also a street light, but we’re not counting that, okay? I can hear the birds singing outside of my window.
And I am awake.
Again.
Still?
The coffee is like a Sour Patch kid. Fir…
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