best_breakfast_i_couldn't_afford Photophobe Tired. Off the train through the tunnel - I'm far too early; class doesn't start for an hour. But what else could I do? So I go into the busy breakfast place on the corner. Its noisy and hurts my head, bounces off my muffled heart. And I spend my last 5 bucks on a breakfast from heaven. Toast and sausage and tomato and bacon and egg and orange juice and black coffee. And its busy and crowded and the street is right there - but this must have shown on my face, because Alex tells me theres more seating upstairs, if I want. I never even saw the stairs; they hide around the back. As I rise, the rickety stair creaks - I clear the top and see this quiet room, the sun streaming through the window onto the warm woden table. My own sitting room, cut of from the world. Like a bubble of solitude for me. Quiet and delicious and warm. Everything I needed. 020509 ... daxle Waiting in front of the hospital for my cab to arrive, disheveled, shoeless, not having slept all night. As we drove along the short distance my contacts were so dry I could hardly see the world. He was an unusual cab driver. He told me to sit in the front and we talked. He said I needed somthing in my stomach and I said I hardly cared, and I had no money anyway. He insisted and took me to del taco and got me orange juice and these breakfast burritoes. I didn't eat egg or cheese at the time but I didn't care enough to say so. I felt really greatful that it had been him who picked me up, after spending a night around people who had disdain for me because they thought I had wanted to kill myself. I came home and ate the breakfast gratefully and caught the bus to the airport. 020509 what's it to you? who go blather from