I hate when I bring my lunch to work and it ends up tasting like ass. Well, it didn't taste like ass, exactly. I don't think ass would taste so sweet. Last night I made this Thai peanut noodle thing. Now, I've had homemade Thai food, so I wasn't expecting much. However, I tried a bite last night and it wasn't too bad. Apparently, though, the refrigeration and reheating process are too much for this packaged noodle dish to overcome. The noodles got very dry and the whole thing was almost sickeningly sweet. Ew.
God only knows how long that box was in my cupboard. I'm not even sure how I came to be in possession of this Thai Kitchen monstrosity, nor it's cousin, the box of Pad Thai. That'll probably just go in the trash when I get home. Why go to the bother of cooking it and all that when I know it'll end up there anyway?
So, I'm left to cobble a lunch together out of the bits of food I have stashed here and there. Right now I'm eating these. While pretzels are nearly always yummy, I could really go for a beer now. I may bust into the cheese (sharp cheddar, natch!) that I have in the fridge. I'm hoping that a) the cheese isn't moldy and b) my Rosemary and Olive Oil Triscuits are not stale. If that's the case, I may be at the mercy of the vending machine. If I wasn't flat broke, I could just venture out into Dinkytown in search of sustenance. But alas, I am.
My lunch fiasco isn't making me a happy camper. But I was a long way down that road before the lunch incident. Yesterday, I felt like I'd turned a bit of a corner. Maybe I was a bit too hasty in my proclamation. My friend's band is playing tonight and I should really go. All I want to do is hide at home. They play early. There is no cover. I could be home in an hour, most likely. There's no reason I shouldn't go, and yet, I'm looking for one. Where I really thought I'd turned a corner though, was in matters concerning Whatshisfuckingface. I feel like I've gone backwards a bit today, though. I'm sure it's hormonal. That's what I'll tell myself, anyway.