This morning at the Au Bon Pain, I had the choice between flavored coffee (hazelnut) and decaf. I was caught between the Scylla and Charybdis of coffee: nasty, or ineffective. I chose nasty.
I was on my way to my office from the gym following my 7:00 bootcamp class and a treadmill run. I also needed food. Last semester, I got in the habit of buying a doughnut for breakfast on days like this, but, well, we see where that got me: Tight January Pants. In the interest of better-fitting pants in February, I had to make a non-doughnut-based breakfast decision. The only thing that fit my nutritional plans was a little plastic tub with two hard-boiled eggs in it.
Y’all. I have only been eating eggs again for a while, and while I do like them a lot of the time (fried, over kale, doused in Tapatio; the mushroom and mustard greens omelet pictured below), I do not like to just snack upon hard-boiled eggs. I could not even find any salt or pepper or anything to go on them. Just plain-ass, sad, plasticky-looking, yolks-all-dry-as-hell hard-boiled eggs. I ate them. I hated every minute of it.
[11/365] Breakfast. On a happier day than today.
I am supposed to be working on my lesson plan for tomorrow, but I had to stop and tell you about this terrible breakfast. I knew you’d want to know.
In better news, I find I am not craving sugar anymore and am not missing the junky snacks and fried foods as much as I feared. All I really want (all I really wanted last night, as I was cooking dinner, that is — which is not to say it’s all I really want now, at 9:30 in the morning, sitting at my desk) is a really cold glass of white wine. Like a nice Sauvignon blanc, let’s say. So cold it makes the glass gather a little condensation. Doesn’t that sound nice? I’ll have one in 18 days.