self hater

I know that I will incur the wrath of certain people, but I have a confession to make.

You see, I have the day off (it's Maundy Thursday) so I slept in a bit and woke up hungry. Since I live in a neighborhood that's supposed to be "walkable," I thought I'd walk out and get some breakfast. When I'm not working, I like to park my car and not move it again until I absolutely have to do so. Sadly, there was only one place to go.

The Fucking Flying Biscuit.

I know, I know, I KNOW! Stop hating! Believe me, i've already beat myself up over it. I really thought long and hard about it, and eventually decided that I didn't want to drive across town to West Egg, even though it's a superior breakfast place. And there's nothing else around here. I thought, "It's just eggs and grits...how bad can it be?"

Well, it was bad. And I hate myself for falling into that infernal place's trap. Please forgive me.

In other food-related news, I've settled on a menu for Sunday's Eastah brunch with my family. And in honor of today, the first day of spring, I plan to throw open the windows and clean EVERYTHING.