Breakfast of a Frosh

Imagine a most scrumptious breakfast. For me, it would be an all-out feast, containing only the finest in breakfast foods. There would be a heaping plate of hot hash browns, fluffy scrambled eggs with a dash of salt and pepper, fresh, juicy cantalope and strawberries, crispy bacon, perhaps a slice of toast with jam, some hot cocoa with whipped cream on top, and most importantly, a quartet of handome men serenading me as I dine.
Well, this is not what I have for breakfast. Ever. Why? First of all, I don't have any men's quartets handy, so that one really never happens (dang!). And secondly, when I roll out of bed, shuffling half-concious to the kitchen, cooking is not on my mind. I'm lucky if I somehow manage to mumble a hello to my roommate as I rub my eyes and try to convince myself that going back to my warm, cozy bed is not an option. So breakfast for me is a simple affair: all I need is a bowl, a spoon, some 1% milk, and a good portion of Frosted Mini Wheats. Once in a while, I get daring and make myself lightly burned toast and scrambled eggs.
Unless and until I get some men to sing to me, I guess I'll just be slumping over my bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats.