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2000-09-02 | 04:11:42

i remember reading an article about the show "seinfeld" when it was at its peak. the magazine was offering a look at a day in the life of the writing staff, cast and crew. through all the sturm und drang of creating a sitcom, even more, a good sitcom, there was one thing that got them through their 15-hour days: lunch.

they would mull over all the restaurant choices in the area. thai chicken pizza. garlic rolls swimming in butter. argula and radicchio and balsamic vinegar. mmmmmmm. this was the carrot at the end of their stick. what to order for lunch.

this i understand. lunch is sublime. lunch. mmmmmm. rhymes with munch. crunch. i've got a hunch it's the best part of the day. i feel a musical number coming on!

let me 'splain...

i don't like mornings. i have trouble waking up, trouble getting up and trouble getting to work on time. and i'm grumpy. and bleary-eyed. and lethargic. you know what gets me through those why-must-i-move-myself-from-this-cuddled-fetal-position-within-my-flannel-sheets mornings?

lunch.

no, i don't eat it early. i just think about it. while i'm climbing out of bed. while i'm in the shower. i muse. i ponder. i plan. what will i eat for lunch?

most often, my thoughts turn to burritos. i love me some burritos. beans mean the world to me. i crave beans on an almost daily basis. for real. crave! i think about them when i'm alone. i think about them while sitting in meetings...or at stoplights. actually, one of my hesistations about moving my ass to nyc is because my burrito-loving buddy proven warned me that there are few places proferring palatable tortilla-encased meals in gotham. that is a troublesome thought. aye, troublesome, laddy.

but yes, lunch. it is like a siren of digestible goodness. a break from the routine. a little escape from the office. that's why i don't pack lunches. that's why i drop a goodly wad of cash mid-day. i don't know what my mastication muse will dictate! how could i possibly know twelve hours beforehand what i will wish to cram into my oral orifice come noontime? ridiculous! microwaveable budget gourmet meals? cup 'o' noodles? the hungarian stew my co-worker eats from a mug that smells like the armpits of a cattle yard worker? the greasepit on wheels that rolls into our parking lot each day and blows the feed horn? an abomination unto the meal! methinks not.

lunch...say it loud and there's music playing. say it soft and it's almost like praying. mmmmmmm. lunch.

luuuuuunnnnnnnncccccchhhhhhh. i'm strangely aroused. i think i'd better go now.

p.s. this entry is dedicated to sesame and soy boy, noel.

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take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:

health tip
2005-03-16

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2005-03-16

moving house
2004-11-19

quibbling with quitherfeather
2004-11-17

catcher in the wry
2004-11-16