The sweet, intoxicating aroma of strawberry smoothie and freshly baked pancakes pierces through the fog of my sleep, making my stomach growl in protest. Am I dreaming of this culinary paradise, or is this deliciousness a reality? Either way, I'm ready to dive into it.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Lina's voice chimes in, pulling me from my groggy haze. I groan, my usual disdain for mornings rearing its head. Why can't it be night all day, every day?