Nope. Not 6 AM. 6 PM.
I got up really late today (even by my standards, 12 hours of sleep is probably a bit too much) and it was so close to lunch time that I decided to skip breakfast. Now that is a pretty big deal for me, especially on weekdays, since one of my main reasons for getting up (apart from the hot coffee) is my breakfast. Yup, you got that right. I absolutely adore my breakfast. I love it. If it were up to me, I would take her back home every night and make sweet love to her as she lays in my arms — and yes, I am still talking about my breakfast! 😉
My breakfast/woman-I-would-take-home is very simple. A bowl of rasin-bran cereal + fresh cut fruits (bananas, apples, strawberries — I hate it when there are no strawberries) + cold milk. The tast of this cereal is heavenly. Try it sometime — it is as if the Gods conspired together to create this wonderous white-brown-red mixture of absolute bliss. Nirvana. Nivritti. Everything rolled into one. My bowl of cereal. My reason for waking up. My woman. My lover and ofcourse, my breakfast.
Back to the story though. So, I got up late, and hence had lunch directly. At around 5 I realized that there was serious grumbling in my stomach and I was about to pop out for a bit of coffee and croissant, when I realized that i could go home and plunge myself deep into the ample bosom of my breakfast bowl. And I did. And it was good. It was great. It was…well…it was as if I had reached the heavens beyond and touched upon the face of God. Breakfast @ 6 — I shall never forget you.