It’s 11:37. Before noon. No one is in the store. Yes, I’m going to do this. I’ve been waiting all morning.
I run my fingers in between the folds. Loosening things up.
I reach my hand inside to claim the prize.
The rip of cellophane.
The beep, beep of power.
YA’LL….. that’s nasty. I’m talking about the lunch of friggin’ C H A M P I O N S. I swear, I rip the perforated edged like a pro and still manage to never get it opened all the way. Finger jabbing and some box squeezing later and I get that little frozen bastard out. Mama’s hungry and Healthy Choice doesn’t make it easy. I mean, eat healthy but totally raging out the whole prep time. You do the math. #nothealthy and also, #notasponseredad
I stare intently on the box like it’s going to give me wisdom. It doesn’t. It says 2 minutes and 30 seconds, stir, additional 2 minutes and 30 seconds. Like EVERY OTHER MEAL. I don’t even need to read these things but still stare of the box searching for the directions like a zombie.
Shakes head, duh another 2 minutes and 30 seconds like A L W A Y S. I whip that frozen block of health in the microwave. 2:30. Annnnd start.
I heard the ‘ding’ of the magical microwave, or so I thought. Was my blessed meal cooling for a few minutes?
In fact, it’s been 2 hours and 14 minutes since that dinger when off. What the fuck happened? Have I been at my desk this whole time? Did I talk to customers? Am I even at work? Gosh, at this point my stomach has eaten itself so am I actually even hungry still?
The answer is duh. Yes, always hungry. For food, appreciation and praise. You too? Oh wait, just me?
Okay, let’s do this diddy again. And THIS time I’m focused like an Olympic athlete ready for a race. An eating race. Well, now that’s dramatic because anyone who still eats those meals (because I can’t be the only one funding their production) knows that it’s a 3-bite-bowl. 2 minute and 30 seconds in, 2 minute and 30 seconds down the hatch. Easy breezy covergirl. Anyway, back to the timeline.
Here I am, reheating an already shitastic meal for the second time. I will focus. I will listen for the ding. I will be victorious over this frozen block of nourishment (wait, was that a logical phrase? I’m sure if frozen and nourishment were people, they definitely wouldn’t be friends, would they?).
Kelsey : F O C U S
DING. Holy mother of Healthy Choice, I heard the ding! Let freedom ring my friends. It’s mutha effing chow time. Right as I shovel a man-sized bite into my mouth the real ding chimes. What’s the real ding you may ask? The door. The front door.
My fork drops in defeat. We will meet again my friend. But only after your 3rd trip to the radioactive box of metal that heats you.
A day in the life of a box of Healthy Choice. And by the way, all you time-police, I was actually at work at 9:45 this morning. So HA. Early bird gets the box of Healthy Choice.