I’ve never been very good about bringing my lunch to work. Part of it has to do with the fact that I absolutely hate- to an irrational degree-leftovers. I am by no means a picky eater, I will eat almost anything. But once a week. I know a lot of people who cook a big batch of something- soup, rice and beans, etc. on Sunday, and then take it for lunch every day there after. I can’t. I get sooooo bored.
This, I realize, is the textbook definition of a #firstworldproblem.
The other thing that happens is that even when I pack a lunch, by the time it’s packed and sitting in the office fridge, I no longer want it. It is a known entity, a flavor I’m already familiar with. It holds no appeal. So it sits there, languishing, until I am eventually forced by HR to throw it away, having never fulfilled it’s lunchy destiny.
At heart I’m a hunter; I like fresh kills, even if it’s just a salad from Whole Foods. It would admittedly save me a ton of money, time, and calories, but I like to be surprised, not faced with the inevitability of the lentil soup I packed. I like the promise of the lunch hour, when I can venture away from the office and find new horizons. I have chronic order envy and regret, as my friends can tell you, always wanting what’s on someone else’s plate, never fully satisfied with my own. My manner of placing a dinner order makes Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally look easy going. As Veruca Salt opined, “I want the world, I want the WHOLE world.”
I have other good qualities.
Erma Bombeck wrote, “I am not a glutton-I am an explorer of food,” and I agree. Eating is a pleasure, and one that not everyone gets. So why resign myself to a boring, sad desk salad, when the whole world awaits me? Yes sometimes I make mistakes, or get too hungry, and wolf down a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos in the neon light of the basement vending machine. Sometimes I fail to give myself adequate time and careen from meeting to meeting with the blood sugar levels of a garden slug. But for the most part I let my appetites take me where they will, examining my cravings, exploring something new in the form of a fruit or a flavor. A daily act of defiance when I’m answering to anyone but myself.