Kerry has gone off today to another part of town to carry-on doing her best to keep us in qualified positions.
After our lovely dinner last night and our nostalgic trip around town, we did a little bit of grocery shopping. While Kerry is off in another part of town and unavailable for breakfast or lunch (she started there at 7 AM), I wanted to take advantage and confine myself to my room so I can concentrate on my project. Hence we shopped for items that would be suitable for lunch and breakfast for me. There is no microwave in the hotel room but there is a small refrigerator. Unlike Kerry, who is more than happy to cook in her room, I am the world’s biggest chicken. I know for certain I would set off smoke alarms, perhaps even attract the whole fire department of the town of London. She has the Control Freak in her room and tried to persuade me that I could survive the use of it. She has no idea of the bad karma that follows me around.
And so breakfast for me:
A chicken salad sandwich from our newest chain of supermarkets, Farm Boy. Said to be a clone of Trader Joe’s, after my first visit I wonder if the person who made that comparison had ever actually been to a Trader Joe’s. No matter. The sandwich was fresh and apart from lacking any real seasoning, perfectly adequate.
Since before I even opened it I knew very well I only wanted one half of the sandwich, the trickiest part of breakfast was unwrapping it so as to spare as much of the wrapping as possible .
I did a fairly good job for a klutz so the second half is in the refrigerator and waiting for me the next time I feel peckish.
