How do you like your eggs? / Truman Lifeblood

If there was a bright side it was that he no longer worried about not getting any sleep. Not to say that peaceful slumber wasn’t needed. No, he had to be in the office in exactly 3 ½ hours to turn on the phones lest Bill Dwyer happen to call and get the automated ‘call us back during business hours’ recording. It’s just that once 5am rolls around the panic of facing the upcoming day in a zombie-like stupor subsides and in its place a calm wave of acceptance washes over. Of course whatever sliver of consciousness that had been fretting over the clock now congealed with the rest of his mind in firing off questions of the most crucial kind – the kind that needed to be addressed if he were to ever

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