Having two jobs is kicking my ass, I won't lie. I really thought I could pull this off with breaks in order to nap, but every single day, at least at some point, I felt I was going to pass over and lose consciousness, I am so tired. I'm not half the man I was.
And yet there is one thing I have enjoyed as I have taken on this test scoring project: Enjoying lunch, by myself, after I get to the test scoring place before my shift begins. I usually do not like that my parents insist they send me a paper bag lunch to work, but I felt like I needed it so I could have something to eat during the day. But it has become not only sustenance, but a vessel through which I can reset myself and at least tolerate my night.
After my day job I get a second cup of coffee into my Japanese thermos and drive south. I have to drive as soon as I get done with work because of traffic and construction so I don't feel rushed in eating. And I don't. I then stroll into work with my bag, get to the microwave up front and heat the leftovers -- usually rice and some protein such as beef or chicken. My parents put it in two microwavable containers which they then put into either a Godiva or Zara bag (we switch off; they prepare the meal and put it in the other bag [which they then put in the fridge] before I get home, soak the containers I used that day and stash the bag away); Father finishes it off with a banana, which I once thought was unnecessary and just a power move by him, but I don't mind it now. At any rate, walking in with this box lunch seems perfect. It looks like the perfect size, and it's the perfect portion for me to eat between jobs.
Once I heat up both containers I put the lids back on both, put them back into the bag to let them cook some more, and go from the first floor (where I usually score papers) to the basement. There there are tables, both at the cafeteria that serves lunch (and is closed by the time I usually get there) and in what is a dining room with more than a dozen tables. Most of the time I have the run of the place (either site) all to myself. I find a table, set down the bag, remove the containers, remove the cancer-causing plastic off of the tables, tumble the protein from one container into the container containing the rice, and eat.
Ooh! But not before adding some hot sauce! You see, my first week I was hanging out at the cafeteria. The next week (which was last week) I switched it up and lunched at this dining room. My parents' leftovers are great, but after nuking them the food, especially the rice, is on the dry side. I am desperate for any liquid condiment that will slicken the victuals. And so, one day, I spied with my little eye a small bottle of Cholula Original Hot Sauce on a table. Where did that bottle come from? Did it come from the cafeteria? If so, do they know about this? Anyway, even though I am not a hot sauce fan, I wanted to add it to my rice. And I tell ya, it is not so hot that it overpowers any flavor from the leftovers. In fact, it's the pow! I need to make my folks' leftovers even better.
On top of all that, I wash my meal down with water from upstairs. And I usually lunch while going through my phone. I need to use my data plan since no one knows if the office building I'm in even has wi-fi, but that's OK. I spend between 20-30 minutes there. Once I'm done, and my shift's about to begin, I throw away the plastic wrap and the utensil I got from the break room. Up until this week I went out to my car to stash the bag and rest for a few minutes; now, I just march upstairs and swipe in. (Oh, I usually eat the banana at my desk before I go home.)
Those 20-30 minutes, eating a free lunch made by my parents, hanging on the phone and catching up on my e-mail and Twitter, being by myself with silence surrounding me ... man, it's bliss. It is absolute bliss. And I'll miss it once this project wraps up next week.
Just wanted to say this.
And yet there is one thing I have enjoyed as I have taken on this test scoring project: Enjoying lunch, by myself, after I get to the test scoring place before my shift begins. I usually do not like that my parents insist they send me a paper bag lunch to work, but I felt like I needed it so I could have something to eat during the day. But it has become not only sustenance, but a vessel through which I can reset myself and at least tolerate my night.
After my day job I get a second cup of coffee into my Japanese thermos and drive south. I have to drive as soon as I get done with work because of traffic and construction so I don't feel rushed in eating. And I don't. I then stroll into work with my bag, get to the microwave up front and heat the leftovers -- usually rice and some protein such as beef or chicken. My parents put it in two microwavable containers which they then put into either a Godiva or Zara bag (we switch off; they prepare the meal and put it in the other bag [which they then put in the fridge] before I get home, soak the containers I used that day and stash the bag away); Father finishes it off with a banana, which I once thought was unnecessary and just a power move by him, but I don't mind it now. At any rate, walking in with this box lunch seems perfect. It looks like the perfect size, and it's the perfect portion for me to eat between jobs.
Once I heat up both containers I put the lids back on both, put them back into the bag to let them cook some more, and go from the first floor (where I usually score papers) to the basement. There there are tables, both at the cafeteria that serves lunch (and is closed by the time I usually get there) and in what is a dining room with more than a dozen tables. Most of the time I have the run of the place (either site) all to myself. I find a table, set down the bag, remove the containers, remove the cancer-causing plastic off of the tables, tumble the protein from one container into the container containing the rice, and eat.
Ooh! But not before adding some hot sauce! You see, my first week I was hanging out at the cafeteria. The next week (which was last week) I switched it up and lunched at this dining room. My parents' leftovers are great, but after nuking them the food, especially the rice, is on the dry side. I am desperate for any liquid condiment that will slicken the victuals. And so, one day, I spied with my little eye a small bottle of Cholula Original Hot Sauce on a table. Where did that bottle come from? Did it come from the cafeteria? If so, do they know about this? Anyway, even though I am not a hot sauce fan, I wanted to add it to my rice. And I tell ya, it is not so hot that it overpowers any flavor from the leftovers. In fact, it's the pow! I need to make my folks' leftovers even better.
On top of all that, I wash my meal down with water from upstairs. And I usually lunch while going through my phone. I need to use my data plan since no one knows if the office building I'm in even has wi-fi, but that's OK. I spend between 20-30 minutes there. Once I'm done, and my shift's about to begin, I throw away the plastic wrap and the utensil I got from the break room. Up until this week I went out to my car to stash the bag and rest for a few minutes; now, I just march upstairs and swipe in. (Oh, I usually eat the banana at my desk before I go home.)
Those 20-30 minutes, eating a free lunch made by my parents, hanging on the phone and catching up on my e-mail and Twitter, being by myself with silence surrounding me ... man, it's bliss. It is absolute bliss. And I'll miss it once this project wraps up next week.
Just wanted to say this.
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