Miss Varsha and her breakfast issues

As a general rule, Consort Commotion never eats breakfast, since apparently he belongs to that half of the world population which can wish away hunger by insisting that they're not hungry. This disturbingly large group of people consists entirely of him and those girls who piss me off by only ordering a large salad when we go out to eat, then reluctantly tear of half a shred of a lettuce leaf, nibble on it, roll their eyes at me and insist "Oh God, Im so stuffed !"

Anyway. Taking advantage of the fact that he is no longer around to harry me in the mornings by jiggling his car keys and fidgeting in the doorway when I am trying to get a fucking bite to eat, I make it a point to eat something before I schlepp my ass to work everyday.

As usual, this morning I had a moral battle over whether I should eat first at the local Starbucks (TM) and then catch the bus, or take the bus and then eat at Ye Friendly Neighbourhood Non-Evil Non-Corporate Non-Chain shoppe. Since I was half an hour later than usual I settled for the Starbucks. The downside of this descision always is that most of the decent breakfast items get eaten by the suburban commuters who apparently have no lives and thus drive in to work at 6:00 in the am. Imagine my horror when I went to the counter and found the only eatable left was strawberry shortcake.Strawberry Shortcake.

The Hell ? WTF ? Did the bakery mix up the orders of a downtown coffee shop with the local kindergarden ? Are there little, twee adorable moppets pawing confusedly through butter crossaints somewhere in Minneapolis looking for the pretty one with the jam and icing ?

I just had to grit my teeth and start the day off with the usual overpriced cup of coffee. Oh well, at least I have my lunch salad to look forward to. Though I'm not sure how much I'll be able to eat, since I'm almost fully stuffed.