I don't know why but lately whenever I've been on Facebook, I've been getting depressed and angry. I used to purposely avoid it just so the status updates would pile up and I could read a whole bunch at a time. Now when I do that and I scan over everyone's latest pictures, upcoming events, or simple actions, I get filled with a sense of jealousy. Everyone seems to be doing something so special or important, all the time, every day. Taking care of sick family members, cooking some extraordinary dish, going off on extreme adventures. It makes me feel outside of everything, even more than usual.
Aren't there any people out there doing the truly mundane? Surely there are people standing in their kitchen barefoot and wearing their old yellow shorts scrubbing the dishes that have been sitting in their sink for a few days...aren't there? I only ever updated my status if something particularly funny or interesting happened or popped in my brain (and didn't merit writing here). And honestly, that only happened rarely. How is it possible that some people have something special they are doing EVERY DAY. I guess that's what this blog is all about...glorifying the mundane because that's all I ever seem to really notice, rather than the super special. Anyway, speaking of mundane, how about I tell you about my battle at lunch today?
Recently at my job a small little coffee-shop kiosk opened in the lobby. At first I thought they only sold the typical coffee beverages and some pastries, but I noticed a menu of theirs that had been placed in the common area and saw they sold a nice little variety of food items. So today I thought I'd give one of them a try for lunch.
I walked down to the lobby and began looking at the menu again. Hmmm, I thought...not alot of hot options on the menu. But what did I really expect, for them to have a plugged-in microwave or toaster oven set up next to the mail bin and security desk? I was the only customer there so the girl who worked there asked me what I was interested in.
"Um, I'm not totally sure. Something that could be easily warmed-up," I said.
"You should try the corned beef on rye. It tastes really good heated up," she said, barely looking up from her phone.
I had tried corned beef only twice. Once was in a delicatessen with my high school boyfriend and his father and then another time was with that same family but during St. Patrick's Day. I remember thinking it was ok, but I figured my palate had matured a little bit and maybe I'd like it more now, as an adult. Besides, it was the only thing on the menu that would've been good heated up and I was pretty hungry. I paid for my huge sandwich and walked back up stairs to my office.
I examined the wrapping because something caught my eye...under ingredients was the word "mustard". Christ, I thought. Not only am I tempting fate by getting a cold-cut sandwich but it HAD to have mustard on it. I turned it over in my hand, searching for the traces of mustard through the clear cellophane, trying to determine how much of a project this sandwich was going to be to make it edible. Much to my relief I didn't spot any, so now the only effort I would have would be in getting the damn thing open.
I struggled for a good 10 mins just trying to break through the cellophane, and I realized it wasn't just the trouble I minded, it was the fact that I was trying to get the thing on a plate, heated up, and eaten before I realized what I was doing. Kinda like jumping in a pool you know is cold but you just want to get it over with. At last, after taking a knife to it, I finally was able to pull it out. I looked it over a little more carefully, and when I was satisfied there was no hazardous mustard I put it in the microwave and pressed START.
Now the thing about being obsessed with temperature is that you aren't simply satisfied to have things lukewarm. I take care of any risk of cold food by putting the microwave on extra long to blast through every single morsel of food. Of course the problem then is that it's often too hot to eat anyway, so you end up waiting even longer. After the thing had been in for over a minute I pulled it out and took it to my desk. I could barely lay a finger on it without it scalding me. Then I tried to just get a fork, which I ended up accidentally flinging on the floor. I know there is really no merit to the whole "five second rule" thing, but I was hungry and figured a little office dirt wouldn't do that much harm. Finally, I tasted it. And it was....ok. I didn't understand how so many people absolutely go nuts for corned beef. Maybe it's because they don't blast it with artificial heat, or buy one from a coffee shop in the first place. Ah well, New York, you can keep it.
Huh, another long entry, and I really didn't even have a lot to say today. Oh, but I did get hit in the head by a tree today. Stupid acorns are thick. Maybe that would make a good status update...
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