April 5, 2012 by jooshanoosh
|This is the note that Amy left in my lunch the other day. For the uninitiated this is the way Tyra signs all here Tyra-mail on ANTM. Tyra is too cool to care about grammar.|
I don’t mind most chores. Sure, I don’t love them, but I get through them. But there is one chore that sends flames shooting up the sides of my face and causes me to stomp around the kitchen like a temperamental 4 year old. Packing my lunch.
You see, I used to have a job with an expense account. So I could go out to eat on the companies dime. Granted, I weighed about 25 lbs more then and I had an ulcer, but it sure was fun to have lunch out ever day and not pay for it. But in my current job, there is no expense account and I have realized that it is impossible for me to eat responsibly in a fast food environment so I bring my lunch from home. And boy-howdy do I hate it.
I know it seems like such a silly thing to hate. It is pretty easy. It only takes a few minutes. But it drives me up the wall. And I am not entirely sure why. I think I have sort of a complicated relationship with food. I don’t want food to just fill me up and keep me alive. I want it to always be yummy and amazing and life-changing. And sack lunch is rarely that. Little makes me more depressed than a turkey sandwich in my lunchbox that I made the night before.
I make my lunch about 95% of the time. Amy, my lovely wife, doesn’t usually make it for me because, let’s be honest, she shouldn’t have to. It is MY lunch. I have arms. Why should she have to make it? (This is also how I feel about ironing my shirts. She’s not the one wearing them – do you see what I am doing here? I am trying to win your favor. “Aw, he’s a great guy!” you are thinking. “He does his own ironing.”) But when Amy does make my lunch, it is SO MUCH better. Here is a sample of two lunches I took to work this week, one packed by me, and one packed by my wife because she had taken pity on me because I worked two 15-hour days in a row.
Lunch made by me:
Turkey Sandwich consisting of bread, mayo, mustard and meat.
(I am sure at this point in the lunch making I was too annoyed and dramatic to think of anything else to put in, so I just threw my lunch in the fridge.)
Lunch made by Amy (with the above “Fierce and Love note on top.)
Turkey Wrap consisting of turkey, Swiss cheese, lettuce and ranch dressing in a tortilla.
crackers and goat cheese
left-over quinoa salad with corn and black beans
Package of candy hearts (where did THAT come from?)
The thing is, I could totally have made lunch B on any given day. But somehow the loathing of the chore makes me not want to put any effort into it, which makes me loathe it and the results even more. If I put effort into my lunches and enjoyed them more, I probably wouldn’t hate making them so much. Does that make sense? Of course not. But I am a complicated guy.
I would love to write more about this but I am out of time. I have to go scrounge some crap up in the kitchen and throw it in my lunchbox so I don’t die tomorrow. Any lunch suggestions would be greatly appreciated.