Black Breakfast

I have a pretty tough time deciding what I want to eat in the morning. I'm just not ready to eat much of anything until around noon. But when my day starts when my daughter wakes for school and the sun is still rising, I find myself standing in the middle of the kitchen contemplating my options. Cereal? Nah. Oatmeal? Nah. Grapefruit? Gross. A hardboiled egg? Perfect. 

Tonight I filled a large pot with water and 10 eggs, then placed it on the stove on high heat. I figured it'd take about 20 minutes to boil. I could go upstairs, take a quick shower, and return to my boiling eggs to remove them from the stove. After awhile, I heard some strange noises downstairs and just brushed it off, thinking it was probably my strange roommate on the toilet, moaning and eating muffins. A few minutes later I smelled something burning. Then it hit me. MY FUCKING EGGS. I ran downstairs to find my eggs in the pot, a pot with no water, bursting open, popping like big balls of popcorn, one at a time with pieces of eggshell shooting up like shrapnel. In a panic, I slapped the pot off the burner while dodging the mini explosions. My main concern was avoiding a sharp shell to the eye. After the pot had been off the burner for a moment and the eggs ceased to scream, I slowly peaked over the top. What I saw will haunt me for years. Broken. Black. Hardboiled. Eggs. 

I had forgotten all about them. Completely. Once I had stepped in the shower my mind began to race. I started thinking about anything & everything that causes me stress. My daughter, her school, her crew schedule, her homecoming dress, my school, my exams, my bills, which ones are due next, my work schedule, rent, my strange AF roommate, Trump, the news, the shootings, my non-existant healthcare, the pills I think I need....everything but those goddamn eggs. 

I just wished there was a time when there wasn't so much SHIT on our minds. And then I thought, Did such a time ever exist? Ever? For anyone? Tomorrow morning I will not have an egg. Tomorrow morning it is back to square one.


Richmond, VA

Depressed, stressed, & oppressed aspiring plus size super model and mother. Traded in my dream car for a teenager. Still stalking Ben Affleck & Matt Damon to produce my screenplay.

Diane YaneComment