Powerless against pig, bread, and dairy

After yet another night out with the gang, sadly what turned out to be the last night after two and a half weeks of such nights, but still with all of us acting as if it were the first, I woke up. Somehow, after starting the drinking at 9 sharp, straight through till 2, with me mixing the liquors, and staying up late cleaning my house (sadly, such things only occur to me when intoxicated), I sprang out of bed at 8, whistling a happy tune. No hangover in sight, but I had that deep down empty feeling in the pit of my stomach that could have been cured the night before by our unsuccessful trip to Popeyes chicken if they were still open 24 hours like before. Something had to be done. After some quick texting, an 11:00 meeting was planned with Lauren and Maraih at the French bakery, Saint Honore. Hoping to be virtuous with my usual Salade du Chef, I quickly crumbled at the words "Apple sausage, mushroom, and cheese frittata croissant sandwich". In for a penny, I added an iced latte and a dozon croixchettes to the order. Nothing lovelier than sitting outside on a fine Oregon August morning with two of the prettiest ladies I have set eyes on, and thoroughly enjoying every taste of food and every bit of conversation. Thanks everyone for the best August, the most amazing beach party, and for being my friends!