Our last few days on the road have
been illuminating. Often one must
leave home in order to realize what
one is blessed to have and... also
what might be missing. I struggle
with eating a proper breakfast. In
theory I know it's good for me. But
in reality I usually forget to eat one.
Once I've downed my French press
full of coffee, I think I can conquer
the world. However after enjoying
a full breakfast for several days I'm
certain that something is missing.
Frank and I are opposites in many ways
and that yin and yang works most of
the time. Every morning I'm up early
while every night he's up late. In truth
we're together most of the day but we
can't seem to align on breakfast. Rather
than starve I should just give up and eat
a healthy breakfast alone. But instead
I wait... and wait until it's brunch. The
idea of running on empty for four or
five hours mades no sense. By the time
I sit down to eat I'm run down, tired,
and most definitely over caffeinated.
So I've become a nibbler. After I
make my java I grab whatever is
leftover from the evening before
on the way upstairs to my office.
If there isn't any cold pasta or
prime rib in the fridge I'll opt for
a yogurt. Or toast with peanut
butter or hummus. While none
of this is very fancy, it does the
trick. That said, I still find myself
longing for some eggs and bacon.
Yet sadly, I don't want to clean up
the mess required to prepare them.
We really miss the now shuttered
Empire Cafe. A classic greasy
spoon it was ready to satisfy our
hunger anytime of the day. While
the decor and food were far from
perfect, we loved the joint. Sadly
we've not found another place
that slings hash the way we like
it. So we stay close to home and
invariably skip breakfast. I now
realize that stating your day sans
scrambled eggs is akin to a world
without sunshine. WAKE UP!
When one stays at a hotel, one must
go downstairs for breakfast. Hence
we've engorged on all sorts of eggs,
bacon, sausage, bagels, pancakes,
and french toast. I've been spoiled
and if nothing else the decadence
has led me to this conclusion -
I must make breakfast everyday.
You see, with a proper portion in
my belly I've never felt better. So
there's no reason that can't happen
every day. Now... the question is
who's going to do the dishes?
