Very rarely in this life have I been forced to reap what I sow. You see, no one told me that when you bring lunch, you ultimately have to eat the thing that you brought. Had I known, I would have done things differently.
Given that my bank account displayed an unholy number yesterday that I cannot, in good conscience, repeat, I decided it was time to stop spending $16 on lunch and judiciously packed my own lunch this morning. Everything was going exactly according to plan until the clock tolled 1:30. I embarked on my lunch break and remembered I brought something from home. Sure, it wasn’t bad, but buddy, it wasn’t good, either.
Why do bad things happen to good people? Or rather, why are bad things happening to me?
I thought bringing lunch would be just like buying lunch, only cheaper. Little did I know, it actually sucks ass. First of all, the walk to the communal fridge is nothing like the joyous walk to the deli next door. The delight I typically feel at lunch time was replaced with melancholy and gloom. I couldn’t help but notice the world had turned dark and gray around me, and that everyone else’s food smelled really good.
Second of all, when I fished my PB&J out of the fridge, one of my coworkers playfully remarked that I “didn’t have to put that in there,” considering it doesn’t go bad. So now, not only did I bring my own lunch, but I have to look like a fool, too? My fellow man is laughing at me?
When will the horrors cease? When will the sweet release of death come for me, as it has for others?
I figured one PB&J would be enough for lunch because it totally was when I was 11, but somehow it barely felt like an hors d’oeuvres. Three sticky bites and she was gone, and I was staring down the barrel of another three and a half hours with no sustenance. I prayed I could stretch office snacks for the remaining hours, but by the time I ingested three bowls of trail mix and four loose clementines, it was only 1:45.
Then, the unthinkable: My coworker brought back KFC from across the street. My resolve dissolved, as resolve is wont to do. Surely God and Bank of America would forgive me this small transgression. I ran out the door and somehow spent $40. Maybe I’ll try the lunch thing again tomorrow!
