Dispatch from the field, y’all.
I was sitting on the couch at work, and I was eating a cup of granola. A piece of granola fell down the front of my shirt and landed in my bra. Honestly without thinking, my hand went on in there to grab it. Then, you know, still not thinking, my hand led that piece of rogue granola to my mouth.
AS I AM PUTTING GRANOLA PIECE IN MY MOUTH, I look across the room and catch a dude with whom I work staring at me. The expression on his face tells me what I need to know: he has seen everything. Everything. A witness to my unconscious disgusting self. Which is my true self, friends.
Anyway, it was too late to do anything, so I just put the granola in my mouth and averted my eyes. Like, I don’t know what you’re looking at coworker dude, this is normal and unembarassing for us both. I mean, it is totally normal to me, but sometimes I remember that “society” exists and I’m supposed obey this set of norms that might see this as a Weird Thing to Do in Front of Coworkers.
Also wow, I have been eating a lot of granola off my boobs lately, huh? Anyway, unrelatedly but also very relatedly, I had this conversation with my friend L about 2 minutes later (re: my continued excitement over this weekend’s egg sandwich):
L: i think it might be time to move on…
me: it was the best egg sandwich i’ve ever had.
in my LIFE
L: i understand
you know what tv character you kind of remind me of?
love of sandwiches is a hint
L: ding ding ding
L: you are liz lemon
Welp. Welp. Clearly I offer no rebuttals.