Sometime within the last few weeks I was describing my weekly breakfast rhythm to Mary and maybe twenty seconds into it she says: "Oh, sorry, I stopped listening, I don't really care about what you eat for breakfast each day." I get that. Even as my spouse, there's no reason for her to care about the details.
But the principle of the thing is important. I do feel like, if I am able to construct my life in a way that allows me to find pleasure in little things, at a high level it means that I am relatively able to please. I expect less and get more from less.
Hence my delight this morning when, having worked all the way over some months through a bowl of Harris Teeter store-brand bran flakes, I cracked open a box of some sort of ancient grains melange from Whole Foods. Each of which, mind you, I blend with a sweeter cereal mix from Trader Joe's to get some sugar in there. It was awesome.
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