Wine for Breakfast

Well that got your attention.

It’s like if I was writing a memoir about my musings as a massage therapist and titled the last chapter ‘Happy Endings’ (I’m totally doing that one day by the way…) everyone who picked it up would thumb right to the end of the book.

Anyway…

I opened the fridge this morning to put cream in the first cup of my obligatory pot of coffee that I’m going to drink before I even consider going for a run (see yesterday’s blog post for more information about this specific delay tactic) and saw the unfinished glass of white wine I placed on the shelf last night sitting beside the cream.

I’m not going to lie. The thought did cross my mind.

You’re probably judging me thinking a few things:

“Unfinished wine? You?? Kristine!’

“Wine for breakfast? Really?? Kristine!!!’

“I started drinking an hour ago Kristine…”

Well to be fair to me, I didn’t sleep well last night. It was the first night since this whole COVID-19 bullshit thing hit that my monkey mind kicked in and kept me awake. I’ve been keeping up a certain level of cheerful denial about the whole thing (but I’m still following all social distancing rules, don’t worry) which has made me my friends’ favorite go-to person for phone calls, facetiming, online dance parties, texts etc. This has kept me busy. Very busy. Mind-numbing, phone-flushing, wine-consuming busy.

Anyway, we were talking about wine for breakfast.

Priorities Kristine…Focus!!

Logically, if I didn’t sleep last night it’s still technically last night…right? Wine is basically grape juice gone bad so really it should get consumed before it goes really bad…right? People drink juice for breakfast every day…right?

I digress.

I’m not much of a breakfast eater. Never really have been. Don’t get me wrong, I love a big-ass plate of bacon and eggs as much as the average glutton or a kale-smoothie-fruit-and-yogurt kind of hippie-dippie thing, but mostly I’m more of a ‘Fuel up as I feel like it’ kind of gal.

As a dancer I used to get up, down a pot or two of coffee and head to class. Fuelled by caffeine and a neurotic determination to be thin I would power through 6-8 hours of classes and rehearsals on coffee, apples and diet coke (back when aspartame was considered good for you). My ass looked fantastic. I had abs. When I look back at pictures of myself from those days I’m slightly mortified at how thin I actually was. I looked older in my 20’s than I do at 51. Over twenty years later and almost twenty pounds heavier I’ve finally found a happy medium.

I have a much healthier relationship with food now. My fridge is full of organic produce- fruit and vegetables, yogurt, cheese, eggs, cream for my coffee instead of skim milk (gross), homemade Kombucha… The freezer is stocked with homemade soup, chili and lasagne. I just bought bacon for the first time in over a year. I even eat bread. But breakfast? Meh. I drink coffee until I start buzzing, go for a run to burn off the caffeine and then nibble on this thing or that thing until I feel like a proper meal is in order. I eat, it’s just on my own agenda.

This has served me well in preparation for the Zombie-Apocalypse (that and my daily running regime… see yesterday’s blog post on that particular training tactic). A shortage of food at grocery stores has become a reality. Hoarders (hereinafter to be known as ‘Dickheads’) have decimated supplies of toilet paper (weird), meat, eggs, potatoes (weird), hand sanitizer and cleaning products. And this is just the beginning.

This made me wonder yesterday during my run as I dashed ahead of bloodthirsty zombies, how things may or may not return to normal after this is all over. While I was musing, I ran though an intersection (checking both ways of course, following all pertinent safety distancing rules for road running) to find a vehicle making a rolling stop at the stop sign instead of actually stopping to let me cross.

He almost hit me.

I slowed down, made eye-contact with the Dickhead whilst simultaneously perusing his vehicle for reams of toilet paper. I waved at him to make sure he saw me (he wasn’t looking) and in response he proceeded to roll down his window to start yelling at me. I had my earbuds in so I didn’t hear what he said but I figured it was hostile.

I gave him my best winning smile and kept going.

He pulled up across the street ahead of me, opened his car door -still yelling- and staggered across the street in true zombie fashion. I suspected he had the zombie’s signature hunger for brains as he clearly did not have one of his own. I casually ran past (zombies move so slow, I’ve never really understood how they catch up to people in the movies), smiled again, waved at him with my middle finger and said ‘It’s a stop sign buddy not a drive-through!’

This got me to judging him thinking a few things:

“Is social hostility the new black?”

“Is this the new normal?”

“I think buddy needs a cocktail…or maybe he had too many for breakfast.”

Well, the sun is shining and I’m done my coffee. Time to lace up my runners and hit the road. More musings on the new social norms tomorrow…

And don’t worry, I’ll save that glass of wine for my post-workout hydration. Wine has electrolytes…right? Or maybe I’ll put it in my water bottle, and if I see my new friend again I’ll observe all pertinent social distancing rules and toss him a drink…In. His. Face.

I’ve never thrown a drink in a man’s face before and to be completely honest it’s on my bucket list. If this really is the beginning of the Zombie-Apocalypse and the world as we know it really is ending (or changing) maybe it’s time to start ticking these things off 😉

Oh yes, and to close, here’s a link to a fantastic article on wine pairings for breakfast! https://winefolly.com/wine-pairing/wine-for-breakfast/

Enjoy!