Why I hate breakfast, morning people, and my thin skin (figuratively & in reality)

Okay if you check the above picture, this is how my morning began. For friends of mine you might be confused why I would be up for breakfast at all.

It starts with the hotel trying to entice me into this breakfast thing, as its included with my room and I usually show up one out of every forty-five days. Considering my other eating patterns I'm all but a complete mystery to them.

So they asked if I ever tried the Japanese breakfast, which I had not at this hotel but of course had consumed at many Japanese owned and even on occasion some western ones, mostly ending in disaster when not in Japan. Normally most western guests would die if served the combo of rice, soup, fish, pickles, natto (fermented soy beans), and other Japanese treats normally served in quite small sized compartments of a bento box. For me such a breakfast concept is the only way to trick me into the morning light without bursting into flames like the proper vampire I am.

So I foolishly agree to try it the next day, as the breakfast auntie must prep for it special. Never cross anyone who cooks your food or pours your drinks, trust history on this one. So this seals my fate that I must rise after truly the worst night of sleep while I've been here. Trust me, there have been some rough nights So with bloodshot eyes, questionable hair styling, and no real wish to even eat I push myself up.

As you can see from the above picture what awaits is a Chinese version of a Japanese breakfast. Instead of bento style, a giant bowl of rice and equally large sized miso-soup are joined by what taste like cod that has been fried in coconut oil and butter. Aside of it is fish cake sliced which normally has a bland taste to it, but swear is made of gelled palm oil. Finally is the tamago, which is a sweet Japanese omelet, again packed with sugar, most likely corn syrup & lots of oil too. This is the true McTamago. All that said, very delicious for what it is and visiting Japanese love this south-east Asian take for sure.

So I politely and as fully as possible clean my plate as much as I can. According to one of the staff who is very chopstick like in figure, she can eat 5x the amount of me per meal! So didn't meet the acceptable mark of eating but did my best.

Okay I workout 3hrs after, no lie, and still feel like I'm made of lead. To spite this, I treat myself to my usual pretzel afternoon snack, which note is made everyday fresh and is not very fattening.

Even before my first bite of pretzel I get told I should lay off my favorite snack as starting to look fat! First of all, I'm down 2lbs / 1.2kg since arriving, body fat is the same to spite all the food & drinks for a MONTH plus. But come back for happy hour and one of the girls asks if I enjoyed my breakfast cause my belly is looking bloated! No clue if joking or not but not good timing. Then I actually decided the I needed some air and the front girl says to me if I'm sick as my face looks unwell, puffy & blotchy!

What the hell is wrong with Singapore! Don't they understand the placebo like effect of this constant scrutiny, especially when its actually wrong! WTF! I already have been knocking on the door to my deep dark place this visit, but this is the bullet-train way to get me there. I will make Ledger's amazing last performance as the Joker look sunny and light-hearted in comparison.

F@#K, see how nothing good comes from breakfast! Now if you combine breakfast with a late rise, a lazy afternoon finish, & heavy drinking preferably bloody marys or fine champagne, and then you get the brilliantly named brunch! After which you don't give a damn what others think. Even more brillant!

So now thanks to the falsely advertised most important meal of the day I sit evidently bloated in a way that science can't measure and mirrors don't seem to show, but somehow it clearly occurred just today in the early hours.

Granted the red and blotchy part is true. The Singapore sun and water seems to slowly turn my face and neck into a color that resembles the inside of one of those cherry candies your grandmother would always seem to have a box of. Beyond Irish, English, and many other DNA fragments that ensure I can turn red on command my skin is very sensitive. So hotel sheets, different water, and just looking at me wrong also seems to give me that you forgot to sunblock only to your face and neck look.

Yeah! So hence why I'm thin skinned in all ways. Both in soul and surface area.

So tomorrow and for many more tomorrows until I have left this mortal coil I'm once again retired from breakfast. I will use my free time to develop a line of T-shirts printed in all the top ethnic languages here in Singapore that says if I wanted your opinion, I will ask for it and by the way your looking a bit plum & blotchy! Think it could be a bigger fad than pork floss, bubble tea, or even doughnuts here!

Comments

[John Davis]

Thanks! Really amazing. I wish i could spend my time on writing articles...just have no time for it.

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