Best not ask what time I woke up today. I don’t even know that. Been living without a clock since moving in. And my last functional watch died last summer. And my mobile phone has done a strange disappearing act every weekend ever since I was phoned on the morning of my last birthday (a Sunday that time) about the location of a chemical in my lab.
Sundays have never been good days for me. I feel as if I should be doing a million and one things, but my body refuses to budge out of the nest I’ve made in my bed. On rare occasions, I get up early enough to have what is commonly known as breakfast. Sometimes I even bake something for brekkie.
Not today. Courtesy of some clever forward planning by P, we had store-bought blueberry waffles with frozen blueberries on the side. They weren’t “leggo of my eggo”, but close. There’s something about plastic, pre-fabricated waffles that appeal to me, along with equally hydrocarbon-chain-polymer-like hash browns. I prefer the “real thing”, but on some occasions, when one has woken up far closer to lunchtime than decent folk should, plastic tastes just fine.
Cross posted on akatsukieats.