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I’m in the middle of a mid-Thanksgiving planning life crisis.

I almost bought six bags of cinnamon chips off Amazon yesterday.  (The red convertible of the Thanksgiving crisis world.  Obviously.)

This almost-spree was inspired by an unruly consumption of regular old chocolate chips that, in the middle of a chocolate-induced psychosis, seemed like they should really be the preamble to an unruly consumption of cinnamon chips.

Can we all breathe a huge sigh of relief that in my sugar stupor I somehow managed to grasp hold of my common sense and restrain myself?  We all know where those cinnamon chips would have ended up.  And, unfortunately, it would not be in a baked good of any sort and would totally be on my left hip.  My hips have enough issues as it is and they really don’t need “cinnamon chip overdose” to be added to that list. For realz.

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Celebrate National Vegan Month with me by checking out my recipe for Turkish Eggplant Pie over at Marcus Samuelsson’s blog.  It’s so full of texture and flavor that you won’t miss the meat OR the cheese.  I swear it.

You are reading this post on Eats Well With Others at https://joanne-eatswellwithothers.com. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to the author and or owner of Eats Well With Others. All rights reserved by Joanne Bruno.

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We ate our breakfasts “Survivor-style” when I was little.

It was every man, woman and child for himself.  You got up when you wanted, you ate when you wanted, and if someone had already devoured every last morsel of your favorite flavor of bagel (cinnamon raisin), leaving only the everything bagel which so does not go with the strawberry cream cheese you were completely intent on having?

Then you were stuck with Cheerios and there was nothing anyone was going to do about it.

Which is totally a fine, average, start-your-day-off-right kind of breakfast.

(Especially when dipped in strawberry cream cheese!)

(No comment.)

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This is an unsteady, unstable shaky breaky world in which we live.

We go from thirty degrees and hailing to sixty-five and sunny over the course of days.

We dance around our room in our underwear to embarrassingly cheesy showtunes and then look out our windows to see three construction men watching us.  Unabashedly.

(They’re already robbing us of all of our natural light with the monstrosity they’re building…the least they could do is avert their eyes!)

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