Sprmarket (why did they save on some vowels but not others?) is a combination cookware shop/art space/cafe with a big fridge full of beer. It’s a natural place to go for breakfast, as nothing wakes me up like a painting of an enormous pair of yellow breasts first thing in the morning.

They have a breakfast set, and usually that’s displayed behind the till on a big piece of paper, but today, when I’m so tired I can hardly stand, so sleepy I can barely see, the listing isn’t there, so the lady at the till has to explain it to me, while I try to rediscover the power of speech. It’s quite worrying that I’ve managed to cross a busy road to get here, while still effectively a somnambulist.

For $11 you get a couple of eggs, a bit of bread, your choice of salmon, ham or mushrooms, and either tea, coffee or orange juice. That’s not too terrible for Singapore, although over the street in the hawker centre you could dine for a lot less. But I want something with at least pretensions to healthiness.

Also, they’re playing Oasis’ Supersonic on the stereo, and there’s a special place in my heart for mid-Nineties Britpop.

When my breakfast comes, there’s even a few slices of tomato, which yesterday seemed impossible to get. The eggs are warm and fluffy, the mushrooms nicely fried, and it all goes straight into me. I can feel my body returning to normal operating parameters, and then it’s time to go to work. Ten minutes from ordering to eating: a good swift start to the day.

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