Thinkingdog Publishing

The ATM Ate My Morning (And Other Tales from the 5:30 Club) So, let’s talk about my mornings. I know I get up way too early. Like, the birds are still stretching kind of early. Honestly, if you're imagining some serene, yoga-mat-and-matcha situation, please erase that. This isn’t enlightenment, my friend—it’s insomnia. Unfiltered, unmedicated, and definitely uncaffeinated. But hey, there’s a silver lining to staring at the ceiling at 4:55 AM: by 5:30, I'm up, dressed (questionably), and getting stuff done like I’m starring in an infomercial titled "Organize Your Life Before the Sun Rises!" I’ve alphabetized tea, refolded laundry that was already folded, and—most importantly—gone for early walks with my faithful assistant, Blueberry the Papillon. She’s the real CEO around here. I just carry the leash. So this morning, full of smug efficiency, I decided to combine my morning walk with a quick bank run. Two birds, one stone. (Or in Blueberry's case, one squirr...