i (hate) you like a (saturday) morning

This morning I made myself breakfast and tried to figure out if I like being alone.

I made a pesto, mozzarella, and salami on toast sandwich, a fried egg, and strawberries just on the cusp of coming in season and wondered if I was going to make it.

For my sandwich, I would have liked to have different types of meats and different cheeses. I would have killed for some sopressata and prosciutto, and maybe add some provolone and Gouda, oh that would have been divine. If it was spring or summer, I would have gone out to my garden and get some fresh basil, and if it were even later in the summer, I would have added a thin slice of tomato. Am I someone who needs companionship? Will I do okay alone next year, when I've never really been alone?

I over salted the egg, but the strawberries were to die for and I thought about how far I'd be from all the people I love.

A quiet morning eating and listening to Vance Joy's new album is the perfect setting to be filled with existential dread.

Happy weekend!

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