When it comes to breakfast, I’m the worst.
It’s probably easy to imagine that I wake up every morning to make myself omelettes stuffed to the max with fresh veggies and melted cheese that oozes out of the folds like a little egg volcano. And being that homemade meals are kinda my thing, there are always plenty of soft blueberry muffins with sugar crystals glistening atop, or slices of sticky french toast casserole, or layers upon layers of thin buckwheat crepes to choose from, should I decide to switch things up.
Buuuuuut that’s not the case at all. If you’re now picturing me cursing my “snooze” setting as I drive to work, sobbing into my 6th granola bar breakfast of the week, or perhaps practically mainlining iced coffee and pretending it counts as a meal, you’re getting warm. I just feel like I hardly ever have the time or the hunger for breakfast during the workweek.
(Please don’t use this confession against me in the future.)