Fraters Libertas

Breakfast At Atomizer's

I rarely eat breakfast. It's not that I'm not hungry in the morning, but I'd rather spend those precious morning hours sleeping and I take pride in the fact that I can go from blissful slumber in my bed to agitated anxiety at my desk in about 50 minutes. From the moment that my alarm clock jolts me out of bed, I am on a strict schedule. No time for dalliance. It's shave, shower, dress and bolt out the door with nary a second to spare for such frivolities as nutrition.

Then there are days like today. I was up late last night trying out the Rhapsody digital music service. After encountering some maddening downloading problems, I felt compelled to suck down a few heaters just to retain my sanity. In deference to my non-smoking landlord I usually smoke outside on the deck but this time, needing to be near the computer to monitor the 'quick and easy' music download, I reverted to simply opening a few windows. I eventually completed this laborious process sometime after midnight and headed off to bed forgetting to close the fargin' windows and, at 6:30 this morning, awoke in what felt like the back corner of a meat locker.

Regaining the ability to sleep was out of the question at this point so I went about my typical morning routine and, of course, found myself with a half hour to spare. "Why not scare up a bit of breakfast?" I asked myself. Being a cheerful sort in the morning, I answered myself with "Capital idea!" and proceeded to the kitchen to see what I had.

I started with coffee. I got a little over one scoop out of the open bag of coffee and, needing more to make a full pot, opened a fresh pouch. Pretty straightforward, one would think, but this particular pouch was so crammed full of coffee grounds that once it was opened, the contents leapt for freedom. I held the package carefully while I groped for the Ziploc bag I had just tossed. Spill coffee on counter, curse, spill coffee on floor, curse, spill coffee all over cooktop while filling Ziploc bag, curse.

I eventually managed to get the filter full of coffee and moved on to the next step, filling the coffee maker with water. Pretty straightforward, one would think, but as soon as I started pouring water into the top, it started coming out of the bottom. Since I was filling the cursed appliance with the very vessel that was supposed to collect the brewed result, there was nothing below to catch the offending liquid. Curse Mr. Coffee, grab for paper towel, curse again after remembering I ran out of paper towels two days ago, grab oven mitt, remember that oven mitts lack absorbency, curse while pushing pool of water into crevice between refrigerator and cabinet. I eventually triumphed and had the coffee brewing.

Next, find some food. I looked for bread...none. I had some English muffins once...gone. Oatmeal...over a year old and as unappealing as ever. Eggs! A-ha! Now that's a breakfast food! Now, how to cook them. Having little patience for preparation work at this point, I decided to go for sunny side up. Pretty straightforward, one would think. I dropped two eggs into the pan and left the kitchen briefly to check the morning news. Upon my return to the stove, I saw the edges of the eggs turning brown. I guess I had the heat up too high...no problem. I like my eggs crunchy. Look for spatula, remember that roommate had taken spatula when he moved to California, curse, look for fork, realize that all forks were in the dishwasher, curse, smell burning eggs, remove pan from heat, tilt pan towards plate, curse at motionless eggs, remember previous roommate had scraped non-stick coating off pan with the spatula that now lives in California, curse, grab spoon, scrape eggs from pan onto plate, look at steaming pile of burnt egg whites and sloppy uncooked yolks and ask myself why I had wanted to eat these things in the first place. Being a crabby sort in the morning, I told myself to shut the hell up and ate my pile of egg goo.

Tonight, I'm smoking on the deck.