I went to Marcy's on Oak Street this morning for breakfast.
Oh my, I am in love.
That may have been the most perfect breakfast sandwich I've ever eaten in my life. (And you all know how much I love my breakfast sandwiches...) My standard order (bacon, American cheese, egg over-easy) was executed in the best possible way - the egg was sufficiently runny, the bacon (my biggest point of contention with most breakfast sandwiches) was well-done but still chewy (a trick that only real greasy spoons such as this one seem to have mastered), the cheese had reached optimal meltitude. It was hot, fast, and absolutely perfect; they were quick with the coffee refills, and the whole deal only set me back four dollars. Next time, I'm definitely rocking the home fries.
Jeez. It's about damn time I found a good breakfast place!
In other news, Ian and Ferguson were essentially carrying me around in class on Tuesday (don't even ask), and they dropped me, resulting in my knee snapping backward and Fergie falling on top of me. Ever since then, my knee (my bad knee) has been snapping when I put weight on it - which is how it feels when it starts to swell. I even collapsed in the lobby yesterday. That wasn't much fun. I'm crossing my fingers that I'm not heading toward a flare.
The walk to Marcy's today damn near killed my knee, but I needed (and I mean NEEDED) some eggs and bacon. Ever since I started taking methotrexate, I've been having odd and intense food cravings (remember the week this summer when all I would eat was crab cakes and egg salad?) - and the more I research it, the more there seems to be a link. Methotrexate causes iron deficiencies and anemia, and strange food cravings are usually caused by an iron deficiency. It's all coming together. Also, on Thursdays (the days when I feel the nasty effects of the MTX), the best way to keep from feeling nauseous is to keep eating all day. The hitch here is that I often feel too sick to want to eat, and only feel like I can keep certain foods (usually ones I've been craving) down. (Remember the day this summer when all I could eat was Butterfingers?) Hence the short yet ill-advised jaunt to Marcy's.
...And besides, no pain is too great in the quest for a fucking great breakfast sandwich.
I have so very very much to write about these days, you'd think I'd feel more inspired to do so...
**all that i saw just kept going on and on**