3.30 A.M. Muffins

It’s 3:30 A.M., which is definitely more night than morning. I often drive into work and pass rowdy girls and guys my age who are wrapping up their nights while I’m just beginning my morning. It can honestly make you feel like a real dork sometimes.

I’m half asleep. I move through my morning routine on autopilot. I turn on the ovens, flip the retarder from “retard” to “proof,” and I make myself tea. Next, I text Josh to let him know I’m in the kitchen all safe and sound. I know he won’t be able to fall back to sleep until he gets it. I press SEND and take half a minute to long for my warm bed and my sweet husband, then shake it off and get to work. Before long I’m at the sheeter, rolling out the yeasted flaky dough I made the day before. I have no plan, so once it’s rolled out I scour the walk-in for what’s ripe.