I really love working alone. And while I have my solitude and independence, there are always customers to keep from feeling deprived of human contact. Except on days like yesterday.
Yesterday, I crawled out of bed and slapped two fried eggs between the slices of a day-old-day-old-day-old bagel. I felt like I was dead. I could not believe how tired I was. But I stumbled out of the house, hopped on my bike and took to the streets.
The streets were empty and so was the bike trail. The sun was nowhere near rising and when I got to work it was like being the jailer in an old west ghost town. Things picked up eventually, but not before numbing my brain out of my skull.
Then in the evening I looked at my alarm clock and thought, "It's 7:45 already?" Then I looked back at my computer: "6:45pm". I looked at the clock and the computer again . . . "7:45pm" . . . "6:45pm" . . .
Quickly I shuffled through my email account until I found my first email of the day: 6:42am. I wrote that email after opening the store while I sipped a cappuccino and waited for the first customer, marveling that no one was coming in.
We open at seven.