This morning I did not want to wake up. I am a serious proponent of the ten-hours-of-sleep-per-night plan and getting much less is, while not that devastating, enough to leave me open to serious gaps in my mental capabilities.

Not that this is anything new.

This morning, however, I felt like I was fairly on top of things. I remembered to wash my hair while still in the shower. I remembered mascara and eye liner. I remembered to unplug my curling iron. I remembered to brush my teeth and didn’t lock my keys inside the house. I even remembered to fix a lunch!

And then I totally left it in my car, parked about five jillion miles from where I was when I remembered (ok really way less than even one mile but still…). And I had been right on time! So I figured since the lunch was basically just really expensive organic fruit (dammit), I would walk back over to the car during the hour, see if it decomposed and/or was even remotely edible in cooked form, and then go from there either way. Not ideal, but certainly acceptable. At least it wasn’t a publicly embarrassing scene.

Yet.

So I should know by now that I should never share with my co-workers when I do something stupid, as this illicits one of two responses:

  1. They laugh at me, mercilessly. Which, let’s be honest, I sort of love, most of the time. Except when I do something genuinely embarrassing, and then I turn bright red and wish I could hide under my desk. Fortunately, this incident wasn’t yet that caliber of embarrassing.
  2. They turn all super sweet on me and offer to help out. Which makes me either super happy or super uncomfortable because I hate letting anyone do anything for me, especially when it’s my own stupid fault. (Okay I’m already imagining all the people who would disagree and say that in fact I love having things done for me…but that’s different. Whatever it is you’re going to say.)

Anyway, today’s confession to the co-workers ended mostly with the second option, with a nice helping of pity to go along. Comi Coll, being the stand-up gentleman that he is, volunteered to walk the five jillion miles to my vehicle to obtain the fruit for me. I felt pretty bad about this in general, again because I hate putting him out, and in specific because the state of my vehicle is something less than ideal at the mo. Some might say a state of disarray. Some might say gross. Some might even say a little pathetic for a grown up. I’ll just say less than ideal.

But he was persistent and I really didn’t want to make the trek myself (and wouldn’t have, I’d just be having slow roasted pineapple, strawberries and kiwi for lunch), I finally agreed and handed over the keys to the SUV as well as a wildly vague description of where it was parked (in which I even pointed in the opposite direction), and he went on his way.

Five minutes later, STR received a phone call from Comi Coll. Where in the car was my lunch, exactly?

Oh, crap.

  1. My car is ‘less than ideal,’ and a colleague is hunting through it.
  2. My lunch isn’t in the passenger seat where I thought it was.
  3. OMG I left it at home.

Pure, unadulterated dismay followed immediately by bright-red-face-can-I-hide-under-my-desk-please moment.

Followed by a lot of really loud laughter, especially on Comi Coll’s return to the office another five minutes later. Well, he was gracious about it, at least. Didn’t make me feel too badly. But I know I’ll be hearing about this again for several days at the very least.

At least I don’t have to walk five jillion miles to my car during lunch after all. And my fruit is sure to be at worst room temperature on my counter when I get home, not slow cooked.

Sigh.

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Dear readers, you may or may not have checked out the comments to my Random Words post, but that day a challenge was thrown down by one Miss Feisty (which we won’t be abbreviating in acronym form, thank you). She picked up on my quiet confidence in my guacamole and, totally for fun, suggested we do a guacamole taste-off for our co-workers. Miss Feisty is the best sort of competitor – thoroughly hyped about the competition, a quality smack-talker, and 100% sportsmanlike. Honestly I was totally freaked out about the whole thing as I’ve only ever made guacamole for myself before and, though I happen to love it, it wasn’t really enough to inspire my belief that it would impress anyone in the office at all.

Not meaning to make this post an ode to Miss Feisty, I must say at least one more thing to her credit. When I encountered a solidly unripe avocado in my guacamole preparations this morning, Miss Feisty was more than willing to come to my rescue with a fresh (and nicely ripe)  replacement upon her arrival at work. She’s a real sport, and made the experience much more relaxed for me.

We were squared off to compete at noon with a blind taste-test, the results of which were so ridiculously close it isn’t even worth mentioning that after twenty-six votes cast, we needed a tie breaker. I think it goes to show that food is super subjective…you can’t please everybody and everybody has an opinion. What this close match tells me is that we both make damn good guacamole.

But what I’m really writing about is how awesome it was to see everyone around the office get so excited about something so silly and seemingly frivolous. But the mood was exciting! People gathered! People tasted! People ate more than a little guacamole! They debated the merits of each! They participated in the event with gusto, and I was very gratified that they appreciated Miss Feisty’s idea, effort and excellent recipe as much as my quiet participation. Good folks brought together by good food, the appearance of which at work is the universal signal for a good time.

So, many thanks to Miss Feisty and all who participated in the 2010 Guac-Star Challenge*. I have a call in to the Food Network about filming our next taste-off, tentatively scheduled for ‘sometime soon’ and centering around ‘something delicious.’ Think I’m going to let Miss Feisty handle the details (as she is such a diligent promoter) and I’ll just taste. That’s what I’m really looking forward to!

*With credit to Splin-Ter-Rific, who handled the print advertising for this event like a true pro. Thanks STR!

Okay, I would like to preface this post by saying I know, I need to take my lunch. Give me a weekend at home to grocery shop, and I will. No need to comment with this helpful suggestion!

My new co-workers are super friendly and hilarious. I’ve already enjoyed working with them and anticipate a continuation of this enjoyment. The only thing is, they’ve got their lunch situation all worked out to their satisfaction already. I’m not entirely sure where I would fit even if I did try to get adopted into a lunch group, and maybe that’s something I won’t figure out for awhile. Fine. The point of this post is in no way to complain about feeling left out, because I don’t at all.

Rather, I’m perfectly satisfied to grab something quick and read Harry Potter (seriously, I’m not kidding when I say this is my 15th time to read Book 3) during my hour-long break. I’ve hit some of the Auburn-area classics (Momma Goldberg’s, Mellow Mushroom [okay technically I haven’t been there during my lunch break, but I’ve been there for lunch at some point in my residence here], etc…). Today I veered back onto the beaten path and into a drive-thru.

Honestly, fast-food and I aren’t great friends. I had to eat a lot of it on the road and I haven’t missed it much in my six months at home. But I have to admit, the thought of Taco Bell at noon today when my stomach was literally digesting itself made my mouth water. Knowing that I would be quizzed about my lunchings upon my return, I was actually reluctant to think outside of the bun and head south of the border for lunch. As much as Yo queria Taco Bell, I was worried about the reaction of my co-workers when I answered the inevitable, “What’d you do for lunch today?

In the end, I decided that it was silly to base my choices off of some fanciful idea that it is embarrassing to eat, nay enjoy Taco Bell. So what? I like it!

That lasted all the way through my burrito. Back in the parking lot at work, I succumbed to another wave of shame for my lunch doings and left the remnants of my Taco Bell drink in the car. When the first person asked what I’d done for lunch, I responded, “Oh, just got some fast food.” Much to my surprise, he didn’t question me further.

I should have known it was too good to be true as the next person to ask about my lunch wasn’t thrown by  my fast-food response and probed further. “What sort of fast-food?”

Dammit. “Taco Bell.”

::::::co-worker pulls a face somewhere between grimace and disgust:::::::  “Ooooh.”

“Yeah…”

I quickly changed the subject to health insurance, which I’ll be signing up for at New Employee Orientation tomorrow. Thankfully, that was a good enough distraction and we didn’t ever  make it back to my lunch choice.

But I bet he’ll think of me as the girl who’s willing to eat Taco Bell in the middle of the day from now on. Gastrointestinal issues be damned, it’s better than starving.