I forgot my lunch today.
Really upsetting, because I went out to dinner last night specifically to purchase a meal that would also serve as lunch. I also specifically insisted upon Italian food thanks to large portions and the joy of carbohydrates.
That lunch now sits on the floor. In the hallway. Of my apartment.
Which is, according to Google Maps, 5.6 miles away from my current location: my office.
Side note:
Really upsetting, because I went out to dinner last night specifically to purchase a meal that would also serve as lunch. I also specifically insisted upon Italian food thanks to large portions and the joy of carbohydrates.
That lunch now sits on the floor. In the hallway. Of my apartment.
Which is, according to Google Maps, 5.6 miles away from my current location: my office.
Side note:
Reason #1,502 living in the New York metropolitan area depresses me:
I live 5.6 miles away from my office. It takes me 50 minutes to get from one place to the other. Google Maps says it is a 15 minute drive, via the exact route the bus takes. The bus takes at least 30 minutes.
Le sigh. Side note ended.
To make matters worse, my hallway is grossly under-refrigerated. We have complained about the problem, but apparently normal people do not use their entrance hallways as refrigerators. They're missing out.
Did I mention that my lunch is/was a container full of angel hair a la puttanesca? Yep. That's a bunch of anchovies sitting in my delightfully-heated apartment. Signs point to me not emptying this container, and simply throwing it out, lest I die of anchovy poisoning.
And yes, today of all days I did exchange the aluminum leftover container for a nice, shiny, clean GladWare container, so as not to explode my entire office building by microwaving metal.
Obviously I should explode things more frequently. Although I'd still have to buy lunch in that situation. Vicious cycle.
Related: Google informs me of the existence of a restaurant called Puttanesca in New York. In case you don't know such essential bits of Italian, "puttanesca" means prostitute. Your restaurant is called Prostitute, people. Based on their web site, they know that. And knowing is half the battle.
Also: "I have a container of puttanesca" has all kinds of meanings unrelated to left over pasta. And should not be refrigerated. And perhaps should be ventilated. Or humans should not be placed in leftover containers.
Somehow, this is all moot compared to what Husband forgot enroute to his weekday home today: power cord for laptop. My lunch will cost approximately $7. New power cord: a happy, round $79.
Still looking for the restart button for today.
Update: Leftover container leaked. Hallway smells like a fish infestation. And someone gave Husband a power cord. I am indeed the bigger loser. Too bad that's not the equivalent of winning.
Le sigh. Side note ended.
To make matters worse, my hallway is grossly under-refrigerated. We have complained about the problem, but apparently normal people do not use their entrance hallways as refrigerators. They're missing out.
Did I mention that my lunch is/was a container full of angel hair a la puttanesca? Yep. That's a bunch of anchovies sitting in my delightfully-heated apartment. Signs point to me not emptying this container, and simply throwing it out, lest I die of anchovy poisoning.
And yes, today of all days I did exchange the aluminum leftover container for a nice, shiny, clean GladWare container, so as not to explode my entire office building by microwaving metal.
Obviously I should explode things more frequently. Although I'd still have to buy lunch in that situation. Vicious cycle.
Related: Google informs me of the existence of a restaurant called Puttanesca in New York. In case you don't know such essential bits of Italian, "puttanesca" means prostitute. Your restaurant is called Prostitute, people. Based on their web site, they know that. And knowing is half the battle.
Also: "I have a container of puttanesca" has all kinds of meanings unrelated to left over pasta. And should not be refrigerated. And perhaps should be ventilated. Or humans should not be placed in leftover containers.
Somehow, this is all moot compared to what Husband forgot enroute to his weekday home today: power cord for laptop. My lunch will cost approximately $7. New power cord: a happy, round $79.
Still looking for the restart button for today.
Update: Leftover container leaked. Hallway smells like a fish infestation. And someone gave Husband a power cord. I am indeed the bigger loser. Too bad that's not the equivalent of winning.
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