A Morning at Panera.

At the crack of dawn, the enlightened people of Carlsbad and Encinitas embark on their sacred venture to the holy grounds of Panera Bread, a sanctuary of peace and productivity in a chaotic world. Here, in this temple of sourdough and Wi-Fi, the air has an aroma of cheap artisan coffee; the scent speaks to me in promises of endless creativity and the illusion of a productive day.

As we all settle into the ergonomically unfriendly chairs, the fellow Wi-Fi trolls shine bright with their laptop screens glowing at max level, their fingers ready to type all sorts of nonsense across the keyboards. But first, a sip of the holy water – a carefully crafted Panera coffee, so strong it could resurrect the dead, or at least the half-asleep freelancer in the corner. The atmosphere is a symphony of Pandora radio stations of 2000s pop; you hear clatters and the barista's chant, "Order for Steve!" Everyone here is a visionary, a philosopher, a poet – at least, that's what they tell themselves as they scroll through social media and watch YouTube videos, artfully dodging the actual work they came to do. In this place of carbs and caffeine, dreams are brewed, and novels are written – well, more likely just thought about, but that’s almost the same thing, right? Panera… where ambition soars and productivity gently falls into a caffeine-induced coma.