One is the loneliest ....

>> Sunday, January 11, 2009



Picture the scene. Me, at my desk, Google reader open, eating lunch.

1. one ham and cheese sandwich
2. one pickled cherry pepper
3. one pathetic little candy bar

It's too depressing, I can't go on. Talking about it I mean. Don't worry Mom. This isn't like my Post Secret or anything.

8 comments:

Mimi January 12, 2009 at 5:25 AM  

so lonely. so sad. *sniff*

Lunch Bucket's Mom January 12, 2009 at 5:56 AM  

Maybe I need to come visit and you can take the day off and we can go eat lunch somewhere that wont be so depressing???? I love you:)

Yvo January 12, 2009 at 8:32 AM  

Why's that depressing? Your lunch looks scrumptious! I LOVE sandwiches! Hehe

Julie January 12, 2009 at 4:29 PM  

I'll eat lunch with you too. You gonna eat that candy bar?

Flying Lily January 13, 2009 at 7:48 PM  

Note the sandwich is in TWO parts. And: It looks yum.

Lunch Buckets January 15, 2009 at 8:13 PM  

It's really unfortunate that I have no real writing talent. If I did then it would have been clear to Yvo that the SANDWICH wasn't the depressing part. It's the idea of eating a sandwich alone at my desk at my job that was killing me. That and the fact that I only had one candy bar. I do appreciate Flying Lily pointing out that I had two sadwich parts. And now I realize I totally should have used sadwich. Julie better stay the hell away from my candy. Thanks for understanding Mimi. Love you Mom :)

Kate January 29, 2009 at 10:22 AM  

If this is how we describe a sad lunch, then I'm certifiably depressed every single day with my lunch, at my desk, in an office, with an asshat boss nearby, who thought, hey, let's economize on office rent and share an office.

Let's look at one another from six feet away, at our desks pushed up against one another, allll dayyyy longgggggg -- we'll pretend we're writers from the Hollywood Golden Era. I'll be Rosalind Russell. You be Cary Grant.

Except I'd love to look at Cary Grant all day. My boss, not so much. Especially when his bushy eyebrows get out of control.

Going Bento was one way to deal with a depressing lunch hour. I have a little party for myself every day at noon. Wooo hoo. Who needs friends?

As for your writing, I'm scrolling through posts and catching up and I happen to love it. You keeps it real and make me cackle here and there, out loud. I so so value a genuine "LOL" moment.

Kate January 29, 2009 at 10:22 AM  

If this is how we describe a sad lunch, then I'm certifiably depressed every single day with my lunch, at my desk, in an office, with an asshat boss nearby, who thought, hey, let's economize on office rent and share an office.

Let's look at one another from six feet away, at our desks pushed up against one another, allll dayyyy longgggggg -- we'll pretend we're writers from the Hollywood Golden Era. I'll be Rosalind Russell. You be Cary Grant.

Except I'd love to look at Cary Grant all day. My boss, not so much. Especially when his bushy eyebrows get out of control.

Going Bento was one way to deal with a depressing lunch hour. I have a little party for myself every day at noon. Wooo hoo. Who needs friends?

As for your writing, I'm scrolling through posts and catching up and I happen to love it. You keeps it real and make me cackle here and there, out loud. I so so value a genuine "LOL" moment.

LunchBucketShares

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