Bacon and Why It's Hard To Go To Work Sometimes...

Here's a little known fact for you...Antoine makes the best breakfast in the world! Okay, maybe not "in the world" but it's pretty darn amazing. I first realized this after we had been dating for about two or three months, once Antoine started spending the night at my place. I'm lucky enough to declare that, yes, I have had a guy make me breakfast in bed! Not only that, a damn good breakfast made by a damn good guy! Since those first breakfasts I've become an avid fan of Antoine's morning culinary skills, particularly his breakfast potatoes and his breakfast sandwiches. Just thinking of it now makes my mouth water a little bit! While Antoine's ability to make a mean breakfast gives my taste buds a wonderful treat, the affect on my waistline (actually, more my butt and thighs) has been less than ideal. But, who am I kidding, I'm a girl who loves to eat, regardless of yummy breakfast sandwiches or not!

Anyway, back to the original objective of my post...the link between bacon and not wanting to go to work. This morning, I woke up and got ready for work as I usually do. This entails me staying in bed for as long as I possibly can, snuggling with Antoine, and usually our kitten Guillermo, until that moment when I know if I don't get out of bed now I'm going to be late for work! This is often a difficult hurdle to jump for me, yet I almost always manage to prevail and make it into the shower. Once I'm done with my shower I'm occasionally drawn back into the warmth and snuggliness (I don't care that that's not a real word) of my bed, but usually Antoine has stumbled downstairs to the couch by that point, so it's a little less tempting. After this point is generally a breeze to find the courage to brave another day of work....UNLESS I see bacon in the fridge while I'm grabbing my yogurt for lunch or Antoine mentions that he might make some breakfast for himself this morning! This is like kryptonite to me! The possibility of bacon (and not just any bacon, bacon from a local butcher near my parents house that is fresher than any of that crappy, all-fat-no-meat bacon that you find in the grocery store, and without the growth hormones and poor treatment of the livestock associated with factory farming) and a homemade breakfast made with love by my guy is enough for make me want to run upstairs and throw my pajamas back on, giving work the finger and saying hello to my big comfy couch and my slippers. It's enough to make a girl go crazy! Now, if I had an abundance of sick time, I'd call in faking a stomach ache or something, but I don't (maybe because I've played hookie far too many times)! Instead, I have to force myself to leave the house, get in my car and go to work. It's not easy, especially once I get to work and I realize that instead of a yummy bacon, egg and cheese biscuit I get to eat a packet of oatmeal for breakfast...yum (please, note the sarcasm).