Currently, I live on a tropical island.
And yes – it’s just as you are imagining:
Each morning I am woken, from my ocean-suspended tree house, by a monkey butler handing me a Malibu rum cocktail in a glossy coconut shell. With a tiny umbrella. And a crazy straw. Yes, he is wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Yes, so am I. This is the uniform of Tropical Island. Yes, all Tropical Islands are the same as Hawaii, because Hawaii is the Boss of Tropical Islands. I daintily sip my drink, do some calming yoga, then swing on a vine down onto a giant floating clam shell, on which a troupe of friendly dolphins cart me off to work.