My roommate's silo of oatmeal. Not what I ate for lunch, but similar.
Now that you know what I had for SNACK today, I bet you’re dying to know what I had for LUNCH. (Just kidding.) (But I’m going to tell you anyway.)
I ate oatmeal. A whole serving of it. With raisins, from an actual bag of raisins. Not looted from a cereal box.
Also– when I was in Palm Springs a few weekends ago (yes, I am a jetsetter), I had some of the hotel’s complimentary breakfast oatmeal. It wasn’t bad, with brown sugar and raisins stirred in. But every time I spooned it up, there was this weird stringy spiderweb/spit thing happening between the spoon and the bowl. Very unsettling. So I didn’t finish.
I ate oatmeal for lunch today because it was a topsy-turvy, weird, what-the-fuck kind of day. Allow me to elaborate. (Or stop reading, if you don’t want to allow me to elaborate.)
My lunch really starts with yesterday’s lunch. Our benevolent boss-man likes to treat us to lunch every now and then, and he ordered up some Chipotle so we could Taco Tuesday it up. And it ended up being SO. MUCH. CHIPOTLE. Like, we had so many little cardboard bowls of steak and guac and that corn salsa stuff that I think we technically became a franchise for the day.
So we gave the leftovers to the poor. AKA the assistants. AKA… I took some home. But I couldn’t eat it last night, because I had already ingested so much chips and guac that I nearly required hospitalization. I ate a Jello pudding for dinner and fell into some sort of coma on my couch.
This morning I went to yoga at 6am. On my way back to my apartment, I was struck with a stroke of… well, not brilliance. I was struck with a thought. I could buy some eggs, tortillas, and Mexican cheese, and use the leftover steak and pico de gallo to make a pretty kickass breakfast burrito.
So I went to the store. Turns out that if you go to the grocery at 7:15am, they’re restocking the shelves. So I see an employee near a tortilla shelf with a pretty paltry selection (just wrap-style ones), and I say, “Do you have any other tortillas?”
Boy, did they.
He led me to an actual wall of tortillas. They come in so many sizes: medium taco, small fajita, burrito. And you’ve got your whole wheat, carb balance, flour. I picked up a few packages to get a closer look, and started some sort of tortilla avalanche, because suddenly tortilla packages were falling at me from all angles. So I grabbed a bag that I swear said “Pro-Life” on it (medium taco, flour… and maybe “Pro-Choice,” now that I think about it), and ran for it.
So I got home and in some sort of backwards out-of-order frenzy cooked up the breakfast burrito, which didn’t taste bad. Then I took a shower, and sprawled on my bed. Usually I give myself a few minutes to chill before I launch into getting ready.
My last thought before I zonked out was, “That food was sitting out in the office kitchen for a long time yesterday. I hope I don’t have food poisoning.”
An hour later, I sat up with a start. I looked at my clock. 10:05am. I’m supposed to be at work at 10am. Luckily I knew what I wanted to wear and live five minutes from work, so I blew off my blowdryer and booked it.
As I exited my apartment, I dropped my keys on the floor. I leaned down to pick them up and– out of NOWHERE– I swallow down a wave of near-barf. Luckily in some psychic stroke of genius I’d also purchased gum at the store, so I popped a piece in when I got to my car. But I was like, What the FUCK is going on? Do I have food poisoning?
So I decided to eat something mild for lunch. Oatmeal. I ate it. It wasn’t so bad. It was a nice detox… but I’m still on barf-alert, because I don’t really like oatmeal.
When you feel like eating a mild lunch… you know, like maybe while you’re recovering from surgery, or because your tastebuds have been scalded… look no further than oatmeal. That’s my ringing endorsement.
And–apparently– it’s healthy.
In the end, I didn’t even have to tell my story or make any excuses (not that I would have, because I hate excuses… and barf), because I got to work before my bosses.
I don’t think I have food poisoning, but I’m not sure WHAT happened. I often get light-headed when I change altitudes, and I got light-headed for a moment in yoga today… and the stress of oversleeping might have made me sick. Maybe just having a bigger breakfast than usual made me sick. Maybe the eggs were bad.
Bottom line– I think that as a precaution, a sane person might throw out the leftovers.
But I am not sane. I’m kind of stupid. I’m probably going to make quesadillas for dinner with the leftover chicken. Because obviously I never learn. I mean, I have all the ingredients now. I have pro-life tortillas! (Actually, I hope they’re pro-choice.)
So the barf-alert will continue into the night. Especially if there’s any guacamole lying around. When that shit goes bad, it takes no prisoners.
Usually I don’t get this personal. But I figured I’d change it up. Tell you the real gritty deal. Spill my guts. (Or not.)
And hey, I ended up liveblogging the “True Blood” premiere. Maybe I’ll transcribe that here later, with a few thoughts of the non-140-character variety.
Now it’s time to legit try to settle my stomach… with a Tootsie Roll pop.
xoxo…
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