I'm still at work. It's five a.m. and I estimate that I will be out of here by 5:40 at the latest. As I haven't eaten in seven or eight hours, I'm very hungry. I don't think there's much in the pantry, and I desperately want a breakfast taco from Mi Madre's, which is five minutes away from work, but doesn't open until six. That leaves me with fifteen minutes to kill. Fifteen minutes seems like an eternity right now.
My calculations leave me with the sad conclusion that my breakfast/dinner (brinner? dreakfast? dickfest?) will consist of a Heineken and tortilla chips. Hard times, baby. Hard times.