Breakfast Epiphanies

eggs and toast

I wake up and feel a little dribble of drool on the side of my mouth. It takes me five seconds to come to my senses and wipe it away. Friggin’ infant, I tell myself. I am annoyed by the drool. Maybe I didn’t say friggin’. My neck is burning from the small patch of sunlight falling on it. One of these days, I will reach over to the blinds and draw them together so that I don’t have to get up at 8:05 everyday.

Sliding out, I knock over the bottle of water I had kept right by my bed so that I wouldn’t have to trek up to the fridge if I felt thirsty during the night. The bottle is lying flat on the ground, water reaching right up to the lower edge of the mouth. Not a drop spills out. A smile breaks out on my face. My upper lip splits open. Friggin’ dry weather.

I wash my face and brush my teeth. I realize right then that it’s a Saturday. What a beautiful feeling. I walk into the shower and suppress a yelp as the initial cold stream hits my back. There is a little torn-off piece of a shampoo satchel near the drain hole, too big for the holes in the covering. It’s disgusting so I’ll throw it out tomorrow.

I get back into my pyjamas and make myself a piece of toast. The balcony looks gorgeous in the sunlight. I move out and take a look around.

What a beautiful morning.

“… and I said what about Breakfast at Tiffany’s?
She said.. doo dum.. remember the film
… as I recall, dumdee dum dum doo dum”
And I said well, that’s the one thing we’ve got.”


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