First, a big thank you to Miranda for yesterday's guest post. I hope you all enjoyed it.
This post originally was going to be about how different musical genres work with different writing genres, but now I'm thinking it should be about food.
That I'm thinking food isn't surprise. At times, it runs my life. This week is a prime example as it seemed I announced to Hubby every time I saw him "Am hungry. Want food." This is bad because 1) I don't need to eat that much and 2) Hubby and I work together. (Note: when you work in the same office as your husband always request to sit far away from him. I did.)
Also, the office has an affinity with food. I found blueberry pie in the kitchen earlier this week and we had waffles this morning. Waffles. And not those frozen out of the yellow Eggo box kind, but the kind you need a waffle iron for. When this happens and the entire space smells like a good and proper pancake house, it's hard to resist. And with the spread we had, it's hard to have just one. (This is similar to the evil known as Gingerbread Construction Company muffins.)
I could stay strong.
That lasted until the second waffle iron came on the scene. My mouth watered. Then the batter was dropped into the irons and the aroma began to waft down the open space towards my workspace (dubbed as the smart cube by me and my cubby-mates). I could sample one. The general manager did go through all the trouble of making them after all.
The Peanut Butter Company.
See the little tear in the top corner? That was because the intern told me that I had "try it with cream cheese." I thought he was crazy; that it must be some West Coast thing (he assured me it wasn't). Much to my surprise and fatteningly delight, it. was. good.
Good thing I had limited myself to the two Belgians and TONS of berries.
She lasted maybe five minutes in malted waffledom before she wanted to be another taste tester. She also wanted someone to go into the kitchen with her and try the waffles. I couldn't say no. And just like in middle school when your best friend begs you to call up so-and-so to see if he likes her (but he can't find out she's really the one asking), you do it.
Besides, they were heart-shaped. That means love, and love isn't bad or caloric. And just look at all that fruit! (See previous disclaimer.)
Nothing beats office Fridays with free breakfast, especially if it's the fancy kind, but I'm more than a little concerned about my waistline and my ongoing hunger. Does anyone else have this office problem? If yes, please, please, please comment with suggestions to combat this.
Have a great weekend everyone!