Can I admit something? When I worked in a physical newsroom as a beat reporter for a few years, my breakfast (and sometimes lunch, as well) was typically iced coffee. Occasionally, I'd smear a bagel with cream cheese or pop some bread in the toaster, but in the toss-up between more sleep and a better breakfast, sleep tended to win out.
Don't get me wrong: I love breakfast foods. Chilaquiles made with lightly toasted corn tortillas and salsa verde; Denver omelets studded with peppers and cubed ham; oatmeal topped with a pat of butter, macerated fruit and too much cinnamon. While those were all things I craved, my brain compartmentalized them as weekend foods. Too many steps, too much much prep for a Monday morning.
