The one where she talks about food. A lot. 2002-11-19 - 9:03 p.m.
Ok. Work actually went by fairly quickly. I was engrossed with large numbers of tax-exempt charity purchases. Those things take a good deal of thought. When it comes to stupid retail jobs, thought is bad.
The excitement of the day occurred around lunchtime. I had some beautiful leftover ravioli for lunch. The good kind, with homemade sauce chock full of vegetably goodness. As I was sitting down to my lunch, Jewelry Girl and Uncute Electronics Guy walked into the breakroom and said "Something smells really good in here!" Yup. That's my delicious ravioli, thank you very much. I saw them sneaking glances at it as they sat down to their lunches of vending machine fare. They were jealous.
THOU SHALT NOT COVET THY COWORKER'S RAVIOLI.
You knew that was coming, didn't you? I should shut up and go eat my pizza. It's DiGiorno, of course, not delivery, but I'll just have to make due. Pizza is the ambrosia of the gods in my book, no matter what. Except school pizza in elementary school. A slice of bread covered in ketchup and melted American cheese. I kid you not. But I'm shutting up now anyway.