I'm a breakfast eater. I must eat breakfast. Of course, the fact that I take a medication that needs to be taken with food is a factor, too. But still, I must have my breakfast.
My morning routine does not have any extra time to stop and eat. I'm not willing to wake up even earlier to have that time. We've gone through all sorts of variations of trying to get breakfast in the morning. For the last couple of weeks, I've tried something new. I happen to love soggy raisin bran. I'll let it sit until the bran absorbs most of the milk when I'm home. I've started putting cereal and milk in one of those twist top reusable/throw away containers. I then put it in my insulated lunch bag. It's been great. I have about 20 minutes after I get settled in my room before students are allowed upstairs, and that's when I enjoy my breakfast.
This morning I realized we were almost out of milk. There certainly wasn't enough for my cereal, and there was nothing else I could take for breakfast. I asked Jim to stop after we dropped off Sera so I could get breakfast. We've stopped at this familiar eating establishment often. I ordered my standard #1, the one with an egg and Canadian bacon on an English muffin. You know the one.
I opened up the paper wrapper at my desk and was a little annoyed. What has always been a hot and fresh sandwich had cheese that had dried out at the corners while the bread had become slightly mushy. Without a further thought (stupid me) other than disappoint that they served me a sandwich that had been sitting in the window, I ate it.
My regret started about two hours later. I first blamed my discomfort on an occasional side effect of that morning medication, but it soon became apparent that the real culprit was my less than fresh breakfast.
Jim had to come and pick me up. We just spent two hours watching Hancock, an unexpectedly good movie, and hanging out while my stomach gurgled, churned and ached.
Oh Arches, how could you have let me down this way?
My morning routine does not have any extra time to stop and eat. I'm not willing to wake up even earlier to have that time. We've gone through all sorts of variations of trying to get breakfast in the morning. For the last couple of weeks, I've tried something new. I happen to love soggy raisin bran. I'll let it sit until the bran absorbs most of the milk when I'm home. I've started putting cereal and milk in one of those twist top reusable/throw away containers. I then put it in my insulated lunch bag. It's been great. I have about 20 minutes after I get settled in my room before students are allowed upstairs, and that's when I enjoy my breakfast.
This morning I realized we were almost out of milk. There certainly wasn't enough for my cereal, and there was nothing else I could take for breakfast. I asked Jim to stop after we dropped off Sera so I could get breakfast. We've stopped at this familiar eating establishment often. I ordered my standard #1, the one with an egg and Canadian bacon on an English muffin. You know the one.
I opened up the paper wrapper at my desk and was a little annoyed. What has always been a hot and fresh sandwich had cheese that had dried out at the corners while the bread had become slightly mushy. Without a further thought (stupid me) other than disappoint that they served me a sandwich that had been sitting in the window, I ate it.
My regret started about two hours later. I first blamed my discomfort on an occasional side effect of that morning medication, but it soon became apparent that the real culprit was my less than fresh breakfast.
Jim had to come and pick me up. We just spent two hours watching Hancock, an unexpectedly good movie, and hanging out while my stomach gurgled, churned and ached.
Oh Arches, how could you have let me down this way?
Labels: daily life
1 Comments:
Is it like when I order that same breakfast item minus the meat & find out that they decided I do eat it?
I feel your frustration.
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