In playwriting class then, today (as referenced in the post below), we were discussing rituals. Our teacher, Martin Epstein, says: “Theater begins when a ritual is broken.” For example, in King Lear, we witness the ritual of a parent dividing up the land for his daughters in exchange for his daughters’ declarations of love. If Cordelia were to gush like Regan and Gonreil, there would be no play. But instead she breaks the ritual–“Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth: I love your majesty according to my bond; not more nor less”–and we have a masterpiece.
Which brings us to breakfast. Our class decided that when it comes to food, we behave most ritualistically with breakfast. We have our breakfast rituals. We always make coffee and read the paper; or we toast Ego waffles and eat them with jelly. We all have our breakfast rituals.
Except for me. I don’t eat breakfast. I stay up really late at night and then sleep really late. I start with lunch. If I have an early class, I buy a donut and a water from the donut cart–that’s the extent of it. But I’m sure that’s not true for you. I’m sure you, my better-behaved, gourmet audience have breakfast rituals. What is your breakfast ritual? Tell us all about it. And then, at some later point (maybe Monday?), try to break your breakfast ritual and report back on how it affected your day. Good luck!