I woke up ready to be a “healthy breakfast” person. I had the yogurt. I had the berries. I had the motivation.
Then I remembered I also had sausage.
Breakfast sausage doesn’t just enter a room—it makes an entrance. It pops and sizzles like it’s trying to get a standing ovation, perfumes the entire kitchen with the confidence of someone wearing too much cologne, and then sits there on the plate looking smug, fully aware that you’re about to abandon every good intention you had for the morning.
So yeah. I’m eating sausage and toast again. The yogurt will live to fight another day.