I don’t know, I think you have to break some rules to find comfort. At least through my eyes. I was just texting a friend now and told her I put cream in my coffee this morning instead of drinking it black AND I ate a croissant. She’s out of town helping her mom deal with the funeral arrangements for her step-dad and she admitted she’d had cream and sugar in her coffee. I told her with what she was dealing with right now, she deserved some kind of comfort.
Black coffee is better for you but there’s no comfort in it, let’s be real. Unless you’re one of those black from day one coffee drinkers like my parents. I’ve never seen them, even once, put anything in their coffee. Ever. My Dad says you’re not a true coffee lover (and also a wimp) if you aren’t drinking it black.
And let’s be real, the “comfort foods” are not the healthiest either. Nobody ever wants to dive into a bowl of lettuce or spinach after a stressful day. We want something hearty or creamy or cheesy that feels like it’s wrapped its arms around us.
Since I am not good at doing nothing and the thought of having absolutely no concrete plans for the next six weeks (while on summer break which for me started Monday), I have decided that my goals will be reading, working out and naps outside if/when I can. This comforts me. Things to do.
And tonight, at the request of one of Cordelia’s friends who is home from university, I’m making my homemade chicken fettuccine alfredo and it’s just the kind of love and comfort I need right now.
bloom.planted.north 
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