Here it is Friday, and I'm thinking three days ahead, when I'll have to return to work. Sigh. I truly love being home. Being able to do whatever I want. Whenever I want. With no one else here, asking for something. Knowing my days are numbered has sent me into mourning.
So I figured the best way to deal with mourning was to eat a vanilla cupcake with cream filling and lovely, swirled vanilla frosting for breakfast.
I have never eaten a vanilla cupcake with cream filling and lovely, swirled vanilla frosting (or any other kind of cupcake or cake for that matter) for breakfast. Not ever. Rather, breakfast has always been oatmeal, eggs (more recently egg whites only), bacon (more recently turkey bacon, though I just can't get past the limpy nature of it and decided to eat pork bacon as long as it comes from pastured pigs), and yogurt. Along with what I eat, I make sure to drink water, lemon water, or more recently, kombucha. The most daring I get on occasion is to have half an asiago bagel with cream cheese. Breakfast has always been sensible.
This morning, when the idea of eating a cupcake occurred to me, I backed away, thinking no, it's forbidden fruit. But the temptation only grew. Then I thought why the hell do I always do what's sensible? Surely one cupcake was not going to add on 5 pounds. Surely one cupcake was not going to raise my cholesterol levels. Surely one cupcake was not going to send my blood sugar spiking past the point of no return.
So I embraced being impractical. I embraced eating that vanilla cupcake with cream filling and lovely, swirled frosting to ease my mourning. Not only did that cupcake ease my mourning, but it also immeasurably improved my morning.