I love hearing from readers, not as much as I love wine, but a VERY close second!


Lunch… The Most Humiliating Meal of the Day

When I started working for a company only ten minutes from home, I was thrilled. Finally, I could start going home a couple of times a week for lunch–what a great way to save money for my jean habit!

And it was great, for the first couple of weeks anyway. After which things took a turn for the worse–I blame the writers strike. They took away my “good” TV habits and forced me into a reality TV addiction. I’ve despised reality television ever since Julie, the Mormon BYU student, cried in what felt like every single episode or The Real World. The only exception was when Mrs. AK started watching Project Runway. As a rule of thumb when your host is feeding you dinner you watch what she is watching without complaint. (Yes, Arlo, that’s directed at you.)

But suddenly, with nothing decent on primetime TV, I found myself watching Rock of Love, The Hills, and Scott Baio is 46 and Pregnant religiously.

When I go home for lunch I watch my trash TV while eating my lunch. Yesterday, however, I hit my breaking point. With a weekend to catch up on my shit shows, I was left with nothing but daytime television to accompany my lunch. I found myself watching Full House reruns. Yes, seriously. And let me tell you, they are just as stupid now as they were then. Uncle Jesse is still the only reason to watch the show, and frankly I remember him being sexier. I guess this is further proof that cheesy writing can ruin anyone’s sex appeal.

On my drive back to work, I vowed to stop watching lunchtime TV and start reading. It’s not like I don’t have enough books at my house, not to mention a growing list of books to buy. At a red light I reached into my pants pocket for my earlier written grocery list to add a book or two while I was thinking about it. Only there wasn’t a grocery list, there was instead a movie ticket and bar receipt. Odd. Upon closer inspection I found I wasn’t wearing the pants I had on earlier.

Another thing about going home lunch is the minute I walk into my apartment I feel the need to shed my pants and shoes as quickly as possible. I have got to start paying closer attention to details… like clothing. Otherwise I could easily end up back at the office in pajama pants.


  • Oh my, I am one of those lurkers that found your blog, and can’t stop reading, I found you via Dooce—>George—>You. (anyway…) I feel exposed, you have exactly my lunch routine. i drive home for lunch and catch the end of the 12:00 episode of Full House, followed by the 12:30 episode, and leave right when the sappy music cues. I too take off m shoes, and am SO tempted to change to comfy pants, and a few times i have. One the occaision I stop by my parents house for lunch, I require them to turn on Full House (yesterday, did you catch the scary monster in the basement episode)? Yes, I think we are living paralell lunch breaks.

  • When I can picture you doing this stuff so clearly in my mind I can’t help but shake my head and wonder why some man hasn’t scooped you up. If I were a man I’d want a life filled with “sarah-ness”.

    You’ll know you’ve found the right man when he eats up all your weird little quirks. Has that ever happened? Because those are the keepers.

  • I go home and watch Judge Judy and Judge Joe Brown or whatever court TV is on. I win.

  • “the minute I walk into my apartment I feel the need to shed my pants…”

    Now there’s a habit I think many of us can support! Does it apply to any abode or just your own?

  • Linden X is onto something. I’d like to be the first to extend an invitation. Please feel free to come by for lunch anytime. If you give me advance notice I’ll even feed you.

  • For the first time in my life, I’m working somewhere far away from home….and I miss going home and watching crappy TV.

  • Project Runway is the gateway drug into reality TV. unfortunately nothing really compares. But tell me, how can you watch Rock of Love and Scott Baio and at the same time … hate NASCAR???

  • comfy pants, comfy top…and bra-less for me once home — and going out again and forgetting to change or put the bloody bra back on happens often and thank god it’s winter so i can keep my jacket on.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.