Orchids

     My friend Megan had an orchid on her coffee table as a center piece.  It was nice, I guess, but it seemed like it was so much to take care of.  It could never just be there on the table, we always had to talk about it. It had a feeding cycle and a sun cycle and a replanting cycle and was probably going to start menstruating soon.  For a small plant, it really took over the space (of our relationship).
     I'm not really a plant person.  In fact, the last time I had a plant was when I was roommates with the aforementioned Megan.  We had moved into a small room in the basement of a shit-hole.  Someone, possibly one of our new roommates, brought us a plant as a welcoming present.  We oohed and aahed over it and hung it on our pretty picture window that was at ground level.  A few months later someone came to visit our room and made a comment about our sad, dead plant.  "What plant?" we unisoned.  Oh.  We forgot we had a plant.
     I didn't actually care too much at all about the dead plant.  I don't hate plants; they're fine for being outside and converting carbon dioxide into oxygen.  I'm just not really interested in raising them as my own.  It may be for some of the same reasons I don't see the appeal of children.  I assume the plants will be assholes as infant plants (plantlets) and then grow up to resent me even after all my unconditional love and resoiling. It's more than I'm willing to go through.
     The other thing about orchids is that is sounds a lot like orcas.  Orcas are whales.  Large killer whales that are huge and will kill you.  Orcas are a reminder of how primal and ferocious the real world can be.  There you are, just floating along on a small piece of lumber left from your shattered canoe.  You see in the distance a beautiful creature splashing and blow-holing about!  How majestic!  You drift out farther away from civilization, curious about the majestic creature's surely peaceful nature.  The sun blinds you for just a moment as the beautiful smooth ocean-bound mammal leaps into the air, completely free and wild.  You are envious.  This is life.  Then you are lunch.  This is death.

Candy for Lunch

     I like candy more than an adult should.  I saw a show recently where one of the players did a short monologue about an ex-girlfriend who always tried to get him to try candy.  His response was "no, I'm an adult.  I don't want candy."  I considered that to be the end of our romance.
     I like it to a fault.  I know I shouldn't like it as much as I should.  I know there is no value in it.  I know there is no protein in candy.  I know they are not low calorie foods.  At the same time, when the question "should I have candy for lunch?" comes up, the answer is never no.
     Lunch is coming up soon.  I have left over chicken waiting in the fridge for me.  I also have a bag of Reese's Pieces with me.  And not a small snack bag either- a full pound-sized bag.  Therefore, I will be having chicken and Reese's Pieces for lunch.
     When survival shopping this weekend, I bought more candy than I probably should have.  But if I was going to die in a hurricane, I wanted to die with candy.
     I suppose I understand why candy is not considered an adult food item.  I get that guy's point.  Years ago, I went to a movie with my friend Tom.  We went all out; we got a large popcorn, Twizzlers, Sno-Caps, and soda.  It was awesome, for about an hour.  Then it all started to settle.  We originally made plans for dinner following the movie.  We walked out of the theater and looked at each other knowingly.  We needed nutrients.  And we needed to be alone for a while.  Chances were good we were both going to be vomiting Twizzlers in the very near future.
     I know when I overdo it with candy, and I always feel like an idiot.  It's something a child would do, because a child doesn't know any better.  I know better, but I still do it.  I then attempt to counteract the pound of black liquorice with gallons of water and heads of lettuce.  Here's a tip: nothing can counteract a pound of black liquorice.  Don't ever eat that much black liquorice.     

There Should Be A Lunchroom

     Right now I firmly believe there should be a lunchroom in my office and everyone should be required to eat their meals in there.  Not necessarily at the same time; I'm not concerned about socializing in the office.  But the smells, oh the smells.  Everyone has something different and when you blend all those terrible warmed-up leftover smells together, it's enough to make me not want my lunch- that I have to heat up. 

The Perfect Number of Choices

     As the lunch hour looms I contemplate my choices for food.  There aren't many choices and oh how I wish there were more.  Not too many though, just the perfect number of choices.
     I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that five choices would be perfect.  Right now I'm at three and those three are all very similar.  Five Guys Burgers, Subway, and Cornercopia Deli all serve meat on bread.  I love meat on bread but the lack of variety leaves me cold.  I usually bring my lunch from home but sometimes I'm in the mood to go outside and feel fresh air in my lungs.  Sometimes I want a little something special.  I'd like some variety; I'd like to have sushi on Tuesdays and pizza on Thursdays.  I want more choices.
     Too many choices can be overwhelming though.  I can't remember how many times I've walked in circles in a food court unable to settle on just one thing and then just walked out, stomach still grumbling.  Too many choices leaves me with buyers remorse.  My lunch will be fine, but maybe I should have gotten the Panda Express or something from Chik-Fil-A.  Ahhh!  What have I done?  I've ruined my lunch.  Too many choices stresses me out.
     I live on a block full of restaurants yet I couldn't begin to describe them.  There are too many to choose from so I hide in my house.  That's not completely true- I have been to the carry out pizza place and the discount sushi restaurant.  I recently discovered there's another sushi restaurant only one block farther from that initial one.  I stood at the corner for nearly 30 minutes weighing the pros and cons of trying something only slightly different.  In the end I went for it in an attempt to broaden my horizons, but it was still pretty stressful and I wasn't confident I made the right choice. 
     I would like there to be five restaurant choices for lunch near my place of work.  I want a sandwich shop, a pizza place, a sushi bar, a burrito place, and a burger joint.  To me, that's the perfect number of choices.