New Bwogger Miyoki Walker is a simple girl. She put her pants on one leg at a time, she cries at sad movies, and when she walks into Ferris, she goes straight for the biscuits.
We’ve all seen them. Their golden tops. Perfectly crisp edges. Always next to the egg frittatas. The only difference between you and me is that I practice enough self-care to allow myself a biscuit once, twice, maybe even seven times a week.
It goes like this: I walk into Ferris, I’ll look around for a second, pretend like I could go for some avocado toast and then I’ll spot them. Sitting there on the front counter are those gorgeous golden puffs. They’re practically calling my name. I weigh the pros and cons. I don’t necessarily need the calories, but I do need the happiness. I don’t wanna wait in the long line, but I do wanna experience the fluffiness before I go off to my next class. Finally I figure, who am I kidding?
It wasn’t a conscious decision to eat the biscuits every day, but at this point I feel as if it’s my duty to continue the fight. Sometimes I’ll have a moment of weakness and consider stupid stuff like my health, but I have to remind myself of what truly matters: the biscuits. What I’m fighting for is more than just breakfast food, it’s everything that breakfast food stands for.
At times, I wonder if it’s worth it, if my hard work and perseverance ever will pay off. But then I realize that I never could’ve gotten to where I am now without those puff pastries. I’ve made it through one month of college on those biscuits. They are what keep me going. None of this would be possible without them.
I couldn’t do it without the Ferris staff, the honey in the bear bottle and my own disregard for things like nutrition and self-control. And if I leave you with anything, this is it: take control of your own happiness and grab that damn biscuit. Those biscuits saved my life and in about two weeks time, they can save yours too.
Sexy Biscuit Photo via Wikipedia