The most wonderful breakfast
Okay, I know what you're thinking. Paul has finally lost the last shreds of sanity: he's starting to post what he had for breakfast in his blog.

This morning I slept in, and then for breakfast I had my favourite breakfast: two soft-boiled eggs (from our own chickens, 4.5 minutes at a simmer), hot-buttered toast cut into strips, and a cafe latte.

What's important is what this breakfast signifies. For the last three days I've been waking at 6am and them travelling to spend the remainder of the day teaching Perl. In the evenings I'd been working on my talk. I've been missing sleep, and feeling very time poor.

My favourite breakfast takes a little time to prepare (I have to grind the coffee, the chickens have to lay the eggs), as well as coordination to ensure the eggs, toast, and coffee are all ready at the same time. A few weeks ago I would have a practically zero chance of completing this without interruption, especially during business hours after being away from my desk for three days. Today, I could practically rely upon having the time to cook.

The significance is not that I've run out of work; instead I have mountains to complete, and I'll teaching or on-site four out of five days next week. The significance is that finally I am the master of my work, and not the other way around. At least that's something I can pretend to myself until the phone begins to ring.