November 21, 2008

And Every Day I Find a Note From My Mom Hoping I'm Having Fun at School

I stopped going home for lunch when I realized I could take my lunch at my desk and get paid for it. I bring my lunch to work every day in a plastic lunch box that is at least 20 years old. I don't do it to be hip or ironic. I do it because the thing still closes and still carries my food wherever I need it to go. Why fix something that ain't broken? But I can't help but wonder if I look a little stupid. I am twenty-seven after all (though people always think I'm still in college. How sweet.)

I have a really cool, adult, lunch box that has three layer/compartment thingies that are held together by a metal brace. It's really cool and great for when I have really long shifts at work and need to bring large amounts of food. But that lunch box is a little unnecessary when all I bring is a sandwich, some carrots, and a piece of fruit. (And sometimes a really large baked good.)

Eh. Do I really care what strangers on the street think? I suppose I don't. In that neighborhood, my lunch box is that last thing they would notice me for. Nope, that would be my ass.

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