The best kinds of mornings are the ones in which I wake up without an alarm. The ones that I roll out of bed to giant orange and yellow trees that seem to have sprung up over night. A quick hot shower and I’m out the door.
The mornings when the neighbor girl, who is five, stands on the stoop and shouts good morning to a lady across the street.
Those mornings where I’m so caught up in the book that I’m reading and the lives of the characters in it that I almost forget to get off at my stop on the train. In fact, I’m already on my fourth book in less than two weeks.
The best kinds of mornings are the ones when I get into the office, greeted by lots of Carrots, and sit down to breakfast before starting the day.
Today was one of those mornings.