The Bloom — morning

I am not a morning person. I am a creature of the night. When the sun goes down I wake up. Which is great except that when the sun comes up, I just can’t and conflict ensues—between me and my alarm, me and my job, me and the world. It’s hardly on purpose. I’m reading or writing away, deep into a Netflix run, zoned out on a new project, and suddenly it’s 3:00 am. Or worse. How’d that happen? I have no idea. But there I am. Facing another much-too-brightly lit morning coma which I’ll slog through like it was...

They always said breakfast was the most important meal of the day if you want to be healthy. Then they always sat me down to a plate of food that totally wasn’t—cheese-stuffed omelets, grease-stuffed meats, butter-soaked toast, and a pile of fried potatoes the size of a Mini Cooper. You could rock that plate for sure. But I don’t think you’d win any wellness awards. A lifetime of smoothies, steel-cut oats, yogurt bowls, and fruit plates later, I’m still looking for the better breakfast, and I think I finally found it. Two words: Breakfast salad. It’s a counterintuitive contradiction in...

They always said breakfast was the most important meal of the day if you want to be healthy. Then they always sat me down to a plate of food that totally wasn’t—cheese-stuffed omelets, grease-stuffed meats, butter-soaked toast, and a pile of fried potatoes the size of a Mini Cooper. You could rock that plate for sure. But I don’t think you’d win any wellness awards. A lifetime of smoothies, steel-cut oats, yogurt bowls, and fruit plates later, I’m still looking for the better breakfast, and I think I finally found it. Two words: Breakfast salad. It’s a counterintuitive contradiction in...