Breakfast at Paul's

It's not often that I get to have a slow, lazy breakfast in the morning. Other than the times when I'm blissfully on holiday ( where I pig out at breakfast buffets for hours since it's urban myth that calories on holiday don't count ), I usually spend my breakfasts desperately on the go - meaning hastily slapped together PB & J sandwiches ( yeah, my tastes haven't changed much since I was back in primary! ) or drowned muesli just before I rush to join the other career-minded rats in the race.

I didn't get to have my breakfast today either. Well, technically it can't be called breakfast snce I actually had it at about three in the afternoon but we shall just keep that between us. Yesterday's on-call was particularly tiring - and I even helped deliver one of my colleagues at work! - and I conked off like Rip Van Winkle for six hours straight when I reached home.

Woke up feeling far more refreshed - and slightly more civilized after my shower - and also damned hungry since the last meal I had was almost 20 hours ago. Snce it was my breakfast of sorts, I decided to make pancakes.

Feeling awfully Nigella Lawson domestic-goddess like, I made my way to my beautifully appointed but rarely used kitchen in my pyjamas only to find that I was actually short of eggs. Well, my woefully bare larder was actually short of anything even remotely involved with cooking ( other than a veritable cornucopia of preprocessed packaged foods such as the instant noodles I mentioned before ) but let's not go there, shall we. Even now, the thought makes me cringe. Fortunately, my home is tucked in between a gaggle of chattering spinsters who have fridges thankfully stocked up with supplies and it was simple enough to borrow an egg - or two. The neighbourly thing to do after all.


Bet his larder isn't empty...
Armed with my eggs, I managed to make pancakes enough for two. And slathered in butter and maple syrup, it was sinfully delicious. Paired with the single cup of coffee that I allowed myself ( and my morning newspaper ), it was heaven.

And that was my breakfast at three in the afternoon. Doctors certainly have the weirdest time schedules so take pity on us. Egg and flour donations are always welcome!