I have developed this amazingly healthy habit of bringing my lunch every day to work. It saves a few dollars and keeps me out of Subway which continues to get more and more depressing each time I head there.
Plus, I actually feel GOOD about myself preparing a meal the night before. I wish in high school instead of Honors Civics I could have taken a “Ways to Take Care of Yourself That Will Feel Good” class. In the syllabus…
- Cleaning the condo
- Flossing at night
- Hitting the gym
- Drinking a shitload of water
- Sending random thank you cards to friends
- Getting 9 hours of sleep
You get it. Anyway, this morning, instead of making a nice breakfast of yogurt and POM juice, I had six slices of leftover pizza from the night before. Also breadsticks.
This day has basically turned into a day of little to no production, as my body is unhappy of what I did to it. And, I’m ashamed to say that I just realized I did not leave the house. Ouch.
So, I’m signing off as this day was clearly a failure. We all have them. I’m going to put on the sleep mask my girlfriend sent me for Easter, and drift off to slumber. Where I will undoubtedly dream of the big exam I am taking even though I skipped class all semester. When I die I’ll have to thank God that 15 years after I graduated from college, that still comes up several times a week. Thanks, jerk!
