A mammoth undertaking

I’m not very good at mornings. In fact, that’s an understatement, as any of my colleagues who have been misguided enough to summon me to an 08:30 meeting can testify! Chris learned the hard way not to even bother speaking to me until I’d had my first cup of tea in the morning, and not to expect any sense out of me until I’d finished my second cup. And I’m finding mornings even harder at the moment as I’m so tired.

So it was with real dismay that I faced the prospect of a fasting blood test at the doctors’ surgery on Monday morning. I was concerned that I’d be so much on autopilot when I woke up, that I’d be half-way through breakfast and on that second cup of tea before I even remembered that I had a doctor’s appointment. So on Sunday evening I went round the house sticking up “NO BREAKFAST” signs in strategic places. I put one on the kitchen door, one on the door of the cupboard where I keep the teabags, and a third on the fridge door. All the signs were all in bold black marker pen, in big enough writing for me to read without my glasses on.

Fortunately, the ruse worked, and I managed to get to the blood test without having broken my fast. But by then I was ravenous, and could only think of finding some breakfast. I thought of Malvern Spa, which is practically next door to the surgery. They are a hotel as well as a spa, so I phoned them and asked if they did breakfasts for non-residents.  They do, but only for Members. That was easy – I’m not a gym or spa member and have no intention of joining. So I took my money elsewhere – their loss.

In the end I went to a “Greasy Spoon” cafe close to work, and had what they called a “Little Person’s Breakfast”.  Since that was two rashers of bacon, sausage, fried egg, two grilled tomatoes and toast – washed down by the now desperately needed two cups of tea – I was glad I hadn’t gone for the full heart-attack-on-a-plate which seemed to be their standard-sized breakfast offering!