It really sucks when you walk out of your apartment at 6:15 am and catch the wafting scent of bacon in your hallway. It sucks because a) it instantly kicks your stomach into hunger overdrive and b) you know you will not be eating bacon at any point during that day. Bacon also seems to engender a craving for eggs and toast and hashbrowns and a biiiiig American breakfast, which you will also NOT be eating at any point in the day. Or the next few days. Or in the next few weeks, even.
It's particularly torturous when this happens many days in a row, because by the fourth or fifth day, you feel as if you would sell one of your arms for a small piece of bacon, and possibly you'd sell both your arms for a large heaping pile of bacon.
This has a tendency to leave you miserably unhappy in the face of your low-sugar, icky granola bar, the only option you have for breakfast.
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