What do you do before nine a.m.? Business coach real estate influencer Brett Bonar describes his morning routine that could change your life too.

I want to start off by saying how thankful I am to the Intergalactic Business Report for reaching out to me and asking me to give their audience a sense of what it could be like for them to realize their goals and maximize their lives. If you don’t know who I am, let me take a moment to “infloduce” myself. My name is Brett Bonar and I control a real estate empire that is both spiritually guided and mega-life force validating. I use my powers to help people, like you, reach their goals by posting Instagram memes of myself talking about my knowledge and speaking to packed crowds of thralls who “do business” with me by buying my system for explosive business growth and self-improvement. 
 
My story is pretty amazing. When I was in college I bought a house. I know that sounds unbelievable, but I did. Then I bought more houses, and after a while I was “free” from financial concerns that drag most people down and force them into lives of general misery and work. Along the way, I unlocked a system for personal growth and business success. One of the most important lessons I learned was how to use my time effectively. And it all begins with a morning routine. Below, I share mine:
 
 
3:15 a.m. Wake up.
 
3:15 – 3:25. Rub eyes. Make groggy yawns. Stare at ceiling in moment of self-pity and then let it all go, understanding that my day will never progress if I feel sorry for myself. Now I pity neither myself nor anyone else.
 
3:25-3:30. Wake up my wife. Take her on a pre-meditative mind cleanse by speaking to her in a low, deep voice, and slowly bringing her mind to a state of consciousness. I choose a theme each day such as appreciation or courage or growth and keep talking till she opens her eyes and says that thing about how every morning she opens her eyes and prays this has all just been a nightmare but it’s not because I’m actually there.
 
3:35-3:45. Serotonin and dopamine pump. Before our exercise routine, my wife and I spend ten minutes going through positive thoughts, gratitude lists, and recalling our most meaningful memories in order to release all our internal “happy” drugs into our system. I’ll say, “visualize our wedding day” or, “picture the sunset we saw in Hawaii” and she’ll say, “visualize sleeping in a bed and not having to get up at 3:15 in the morning.”
 
3:35-3:45. Treadmill. I try to get my wife on the treadmill. She says she’s too tired, but I lead her to our home gym and get her on the machines. My wife needs to get more into this, for sure, because she’s starting to ask more and more questions about why we need to be up at 3:15 a.m. in order to find peace and purpose in our lives and I’m trying to explain to her that we need to live a full day before the day begins so that we can have the rest of the day be a “bonus” for us and she’s just saying stuff about how her “bonus” is basically just wanting to fall asleep all day and how she fucking hates this and then more stuff about how when she met me on Tinder this wasn’t how she pictured it going and how I presented myself totally differently and how we used to sleep in all the time but now we do this. 
 
3:45-4:00. After we’ve warmed up for ten minutes on the treadmill, I take my wife through a guided meditation to prepare our minds for the day ahead. She continues asking me what qualifies me to guide her through a meditation and we get into this whole thing about what qualifies anyone?  And then she starts, as usual, mocking me where everything I say she says back to me in a fake Indian voice like a guru or something. I tell her it’s ruining the meditation and she’s like you’re ruining our marriage.
 
4:00-5:00. Weights. She doesn’t want to spot me when I lift, but I’m mentally prepared to do it without her. She usually falls asleep by the leg press machine, and I try to recite a gratitude list while I lift. She wakes up for a second and says she’s grateful she didn’t sign a pre nup with me. I lift in silence. She snores.
 
5:00-5:30. Breakfast. I get her to the kitchen, and she does what she always does and asks why the fuck we can’t have bacon and eggs and waffles and I have to tell her that I made a blueberry acai cleanse for us to drink that will give us all the nutrients we need for the next seven hours. She tells me to go fuck myself and then goes on a rant about why I won’t allow a coffee machine in the house and then she gives up and sips the cleanse and says she’s just going to pretend it’s bacon.
 
5:30–5:45. After a nutritious breakfast, I send out my inspirational power tweet to my followers. I can’t fucking concentrate because my wife is screaming something about how she hasn’t slept in six months. Such bullshit. She sleeps all day after our morning routine. I just tweet out “stay strong” or some such crap. Such an underachievement, but it’s not like any of my “followers” need more than that because if they’re following me, they’re probably living in group homes and humping doorknobs—according to my wife.
 
5:45-6:00. Gently wake up the kids and give them affirmation for their day. But my wife is scream-crying at everyone while I give inspirational positive affirmation to Hunter and Daisy. Daisy says something about how school isn’t till 8:00 and it’s only like a three-minute walk and why do we have to get up so early, Daddy? And I’m just like, get the fuck up. You need this time to focus your positive energy and meditate! Jesus.
 
6:00-6:30. Sacred time with my wife. This is a time just for my wife and me to connect with each other and enjoy our union as man and wife. I won’t describe this time because it is 100% private and between us, but I will say that it’s impossible to totally connect with someone when she keeps saying that she’s so fucking tired she might drive her brand-new Maserati into a fucking wall today. I ask her if she appreciates how hard I worked to buy her a Maserati and she’s like “all I want is sleep,” and, “I’d trade that Maserati for a dirty mattress by a river if I could sleep right now” and that “every day with you is like the first day of some fucked up hell week where you get woken up at three a.m. and have to recite a bunch of bullshit while people scream at you only this hell week lasts forever and you’re not screaming—you’re just sitting there tweeting bullshit about staying strong and surrounding yourself with positive people who are better than you, whatever the fuck that means…”
 
6:30-7:00. Sacred time with my children. The kids are totally awake and ready to start their day. I give them each a vitamin infused smoothie, fake bread, and a date ‘n fig Danish made from something called WeedFlax and take them through an exercise where they focus on their daily goals and visualize them before going to school. Hunter says his teacher says he’s falling asleep in class too much. I tell him that meditation is a lot like sleep because your mind is able to lift itself from the pressure that makes you tired. He is asleep in our breakfast nook and cannot hear me consciously. I tap a spoon on the table to get his attention. He doesn’t respond. I tap louder, right by his head. No response. I start slamming that motherfucking spoon down and he wakes up. Everybody is screaming. Again.
 
7:00-7:30. Creativity time. This might be my favorite part of my morning routine. It’s a time when I ask everyone in the family to take a half hour to let their creative minds flow. They can paint, write, compose music—whatever. As long as it’s creative. I feel this kind of focus early in the morning can ease your neuro-receptors and let your brain crank out things you’ve never thought of before. My wife starts asking where I learned that and before I can even answer she starts asking me about where I got my medical degree and then she goes off into the whole, “tell me again, how did you become the authority on how the human mind works? Was it when you bought a house in college?” and, of course, “Did you even graduate from college?” Then she just starts repeating everything I say in the fake Indian guru voice.
 
7:30-8:00. Kids to school. I walk the children there, and it's only three minutes away but I need to get out of the fucking house so I just take them early. We sit there. It’s not open yet. A janitor passes us and gives me a weird look like he’s into me or something. I can’t even process that. Hunter is falling asleep on a curb. I can’t lie. I’m pretty fucking tired too.
 
8:00-9:00. Shower and get ready for work. I like this time because my wife is passed out in the other room and is quiet. I can shave my body and admire myself in the mirror for a few minutes before it’s time to sneak by her and get in my $150,000 ride and go to work where people fucking respect me. 
 
Conclusion. I know that at 9:00 a.m. the day is just starting (for most people), but at this point I have gotten done everything I need to do. So the rest of the day is just a bonus. A long, long, so tired I am constantly slipping in and out of reality bonus. 
 
Brett Bonar is a 9-figure influencer, international speecher, business coach, and lifemaker. He has bought and sold real estate and also holds the keys to human happiness which is to sell real estate and life coach people. Questions and comments may be sent to Brett at [email protected].
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