Oh yes I did.
For breakfast, I had some stale Taco Bell cinnamon crisps left over from last night. Why are they in my house in the first place? Because I was attempting to challenge the limits of human biology.
Long story short, due to an unfortunate series of events (the main one being that thing known as "work". Like, at a job where I get paid in dollars, not vague notions of personal satisfaction that seemingly only women work. In a post-Hilary-Rosen-making-total-sense-and-being-excoriated-anyway world, I feel the need to explain this.) Anyway. I'd been awake for 27 hours, and doing a really great job of pretending to be lucid. So "lucid", in fact, that I smiled and nodded when Jon said he wanted Taco Bell for dinner. He kindly offered to bring me back some cinnamon twists, in addition to the Crunchwrap that I requested a little too gleefully.
I was passed out on the couch when he returned with my food. I vaguely remember making a supreme effort to eat a single cinnamon twist. Then nothing. Apparently incoherent babbling was involved.
The Crunchwrap, I fear, met a sad fate last night in Jon's tummy. But the cinnamon twists were waiting for me this morning, and weren't too bad.
The glass of milk (2%, ha) was likewise delicious. As an aside, the glass it's in was obtained under questionable circumstances from a Mr. Donut outlet in Tokyo. The lion's mane is actually a donut. I can't recommend their donuts enough if you are in the area, especially their green tea-flavored, custard-filled ones. The odd shape is really endearing, even if it kind of reminds me of a baby's teething ring.