Last week, I had a serious realization at my work desk. After fishing a crumb of overly crisped bacon out of my keyboard, I stopped mid-bite to stare at the mediocre egg sandwich from a coffee chain in my hand. Why am I eating the saddest breakfast at my desk every morning? Is this even made of real eggs?
While I almost never eat fast food, somehow breakfast had slipped into another territory where it was okay to give in to the one-stop-shop quick meal that was neither fulfilling nor cheap when you added it up. This week, things changed.










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