Breakfast while reading Pamela. I tortured myself in this way for about a week. I don't recommend it.
It will make you so angry.
I just finished cramming my face full of gigantic flatbread crackers and cheese, things I rarely buy because of their price and my tendency to do what I have just described. The occasion for this fit of gluttony then? They were free. This is why I go to talks. Even though I know that, ninety-eight percent of the time, I will not hear anything I don't already know, and I will spend the majority of my time fidgeting in an attempt to keep my legs from falling asleep and my brain from shutting down completely, I will go, simply because someone has promised me that there will be food in my future if I show up and stay. And it will be free.