There are worse views to wake up to:
I'm in northern Minnesota this week, staying in the cabin that my great-uncle bought 55 years ago and passed down to my grandparents, who passed it down to my mother, who will one day pass it down to me.
It's my favorite place in the world.
I store my heart here, to keep it safe through the vagaries of Los Angeles life.
It's quiet and peaceful and the air is... well. Breathable.
At night, the loons call across the water.
During the day, waves lap and clouds drift and deer graze.
I have work to do while I'm here, but it's different than working in L.A. I get a lot more done in a lot less time. There are no distractions-- not even Daisy and Moose, who are home with the house-sitter.
It's just me and my new computer and the view.
I may never go back.