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2004-10-22 - 10:30 a.m.
I'm clearly not ready to be an adult. I can't even figure out basic things like breakfast. I know I'm supposed to eat it EVERY DAY but actually getting around to it is extremely complicated.
To me, breakfast is a fun weekend activity, like snowboarding or knitting or writing poetry.
I get up at noon and enjoy a languorous, decadent meal of eggs, waffles, bacon, fruit, juice, coffee, tea and assorted pastries. Good conversation must be included with the meal. I am usually so exhausted by the process that I have to take a nice nap before anything else can be accomplished.
The whole idea of waking up on a work day and shoveling in food as fuel before rushing out into traffic, paperwork, phone calls and meetings is not my idea of fun.
And perhaps this is the problem. I view basic things like eating as entertainment and can not imagine spoiling these activities with the detrius of "real life" -- even though this is clearly my real life: Three veggie sausages at my desk with my fingers.
(What has happened to my writing lately? It's like I've been kidnapped by someone without a sense of style.)