Eggs

As of late, I have become quite the fan of eggs for breakfast. Reader, you may be underwhelmed by this statement. After all, many people eat eggs for breakfast every day. What makes it so special all of a sudden. First, I didn't even eat breakfast for an entire year. My first revelation was rediscovering the meal in general. Unfortunately, this reacquaintance consisted largely of my eating cereal or break in the morning before dashing off to my first task. Nothing special food wise. And then one humble Sunday afternoon, I stumbled into the dining hall and investigated my food prospects through bleary eyes. Everything seemed a little bland. I thought I would embark on a grand adventure and order my first omelet. I slouched at the counter until a hand (whose attached face was blocked by a decorative corn arrangement) passed me a ceramic plate bearing my cooked egg and then I trudged to the table near the windows, grabbing a fork on the way. Collapsing in the chair, I arranged my single piece of silverware to the left of my plate and stared at the steaming mass piled in front of me. It was a pleasant shade of yellow with happy little ham cubes sprinkled throughout. I picked up my fork, turned it around, passed it to my other hand, and cut in with conviction. Slowly, eyes nearly closed in the bright sunlight streaming through the windows, I raised the utensil to my mouth and delivered its cargo. Deliciousness exploded on my taste buds. I now rather enjoy eggs for breakfast.