Ramadan ended on October 12th. I broke my bread fast for Indonesia that I did during Ramadan by eating a turkey and swiss grilled sandwich on Saturday. Dee-lish. And now, I am eating bread once again. Welcome home, carbs! (that was my belly talking)
This morning, I wanted to eat the whole-wheat blueberry pancakes from the work cafeteria that I had been craving for a month. After our staff meeting was finally over, I rushed to place my order before breakfast ended. I barely made the cut-off.
When I got back to my desk, I dug into the pancakes, but noticed something a bit strange about my blueberry pancakes—I couldn’t find the blueberries. In the two pancakes, I found one blueberry. ONE. I don’t know what this means. But I feel there has to be a symbolism in this situation. It was just too unusual.
Maybe this is my gateway inspiration for becoming a fortune cookie writer: In breakfast, better one lonely blueberry, than one lonely bug.
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