Sunday morning I made bacon. My apartment is not huge and it also doesn’t have a stove fan. So what does that mean? Yesterday mid-day after hours of candle burning and windows being opened and sheets being changed, my apartment and all of my belongings FINALLY did not smell like bacon.
Tonight I wanted to make omelettes. You know what’s really good in omelettes? Bacon. I had 2 slices left and if I knew that if I wasn’t going to use them in the next week or so they wouldn’t have even stayed good. But could I do it? Could I sacrifice another bought of bacon-apartment just for an omelette?
I wish everything smelled like bacon. Give me the bacon. Bacon bacon bacon. Were the words of wisdom from my boyfriend when I voiced my dilemma. Helpful.
The omelettes turned out absolutely perfect. Packed with feta and bell pepper and mushrooms and spices and … you guessed it … bacon.
Sure, my freshly showered hair might have a slight bacon tint and my windows will be open for most of the day tomorrow, but dang. Those omelettes were good.