I remember this feeling – the elation of finishing much more of the book than you were planning on even working on at the outset of the night, especially given how late you were hanging out with other people, eating into your writing time. (In this case, the Rutgers debate team I’m coaching, in that case Schneider & Kunkel). The pure exhilaration of watching it get faintly lighter outside and knowing how productive you’ve been while all the rest of your part of the world slept. How everyone is still asleep and you just want to stay up one more hour, fuzzy-tired but eminently satisfied with being in the right place doing the right thing with your time on Earth. Tired, satisfied, and… hungry.

And before, during those blessed days in the summer of 2001, I would get in the Kia and drive down to the Frontier. I would have a breakfast burrito and fries and the world would take on this radiant hue that matched the pinky-purple-orange outside and I would polish off spicy bites with the anticipation of sleep that can only be joyful (for me) knowing exactly how hard and sound you’ll sleep and how happy you’ll be to awaken in the face of the prior night’s accomplishments.

Box of Cheez-Its, loaf of country potato, you are not the Frontier. I know I’m trying hard to eat at home these days, but mornings like this call for an exception. Although I still don’t think driving to Albuquerque is the answer.

These bread products will have to do for this morning. Good night, world. Can’t wait to see you again.