I’m a brown-bagger. I pack a lunch and take it to work. This may impact my career choice a bit as going out to eat is a ritual. I used to eat out every day and then realized (after I got married because my wife told me) that a $7 meal, five times a week, for 50 weeks out of the year is a hefty chunk of change ($1,750 for you slower people). Money better spent on, say, guns.
My wife is rather anal about the contents of our refrigerator. She constantly works to maximize the available space in the fridge. She will actually, and I’m not making this up, take the contents of a larger bowl and put them into a smaller bowl. I won’t do that. I figure that just creates one more dish to wash. She packs my lunch, and I’m thankful for that. She doesn’t do it because she wants to make sure I eat well. She does it because, if she doesn’t, I’ll just go out for lunch.
Her determination to get rid of everything in the fridge combined with packing my lunch has resulted in the suffering of yours truly. I get the oddest food combinations for lunch. For example, a few days back I had in my lunch box: Ramen noodles, Stove Top Stuffing and a small block of mild cheddar cheese. I’ve also had chili, rice-a-roni, and a yogurt.
The other thing about this situation is that we have four lunch boxes, one of which is a rather sissy-looking teal color. Carrying that lunch box makes me look like someone you’d want to beat up. If someone were to take this lunch box to school, they’d probably get their asses kicked. This lunch box is, of course, her first choice when it comes to packing lunch for me.