Thursday, December 29
One post of sense, curses, and cents.
It's happening. I'm turning into that sad sack of limpdick that's craving Lean Cuisines for lunch at work, spends today's lunch hour grocery shopping since we were left to last night foraging our fridge for anything that went together ("So...prime rib leftover....nachos?"), and subsequently passed by the frozen meal section before saying, SELF...NOT A FUCKING CHANCE.
Apparently my vag is taking over my whole body. Because never have I felt the need for high sodium, 2-minutes-on-high with a spork in my life. So apparently a sunny lunchtime spent at the picnic table outside my building will want me to count points, wear a pedometer, and wanting to powerwalk at lunch in my suit and sneakers.
Not that I actually wear a suit anymore. Bitches....this be California. My suits are getting staler than festering tequila shots the morning after. I wear jeans. And I wear casual pants. And I wear cotton, and Birkenstocks, and pretty much work in weekend wear since all my interaction is with coworkers. No high-paying legal clients like Virginia. I'm pretty sure no one knows what a 4-piece suit is here....
Usually my lunch is leftovers, which can be boring eating the same meal within a 24-hour timeframe. Sometimes I'm just not in the mood for leftover spaghetti. Or leftover chicken. Or leftover anything. I'm bored. And PB&J can only handle this inner 5-year-old for awhile. So when today's microwave wafted of Lean Cuisine lasagna....I'm almost threw my panties at it.
But I can't do it. I can't eat that. I have pride. Lesbian pride.
It doesn't help that NO ONE EATS IN THE BREAK ROOM. No one. So I'm left to eating outside by myself. Never have a felt like a Glee freshman just wanting someone throw a slushie in my face. Because then I'd at least talk with someone. Nope. Going home for lunch or going out to eat is the thing. Well...it takes me between 18-26 minutes to get home...so that's a waste of gas. Plus, I consider eating out every workday excessive and financially wasteful when you can easily cut meal costs by PACKING A FREAKIN' LUNCH. Seriously people....$5 bucks a day is $25 a week...which is $100 a month....which is $1,200 a year. Umm...that's like 3 sports bra in this big-boobed world (for those following the Facebook discussion).
Did this post have a purpose?? Absolutely not. I just assumed you all missed me and my eloquent ability to ramble like a drunken sailor. You now know I eat alone at work and have a love/hate relationship with Elizabeth Kostova's second novel. It...well....sucks. It's not keeping me entertained at all. But for $4 for the book (thanks to Borders for closing), I can't give up. But I just may. Because I have brain cells to survive....and I have new books on my Christmas list that sound more fascinating.