Blah blah and double blah. I never believed that crap and neither did you. We’re 22 right? Hit the clubs all weekend, wind up in 3 different beds and get to work Monday morning at 7am with your shades on and you’re doing fine. Right? Riiight. You can do that for only so many years before your grandmother’s advice starts to kick in. Then a visit to the doctor and he takes one look at you and says, “Do you eat breakfast?”
While I don’t eat “breakfast” every day, I do a lot better than I used to. This morning I got up after an absolutely excellent rest and wanted to sit down to a nice breakfast. Don’t we all? But it was Friday at 8 am and I had to be to work in a bit. Once again, leaving without even so much as a glass of sunny orange juice.
Sheet man, I got a few eggs, some bread and Irish bacon. I’ll cook this up in my office while laying down the … whatever it is I do.
Whoops, forgot the fresh fruit. Dang.