Turkey sandwich, salad and chips

Would we feral nextgen librarians be bold enough to cut the line and make sensible double use of the conference sandwich table? Would we be that wild and irreverent? Turned out to be no, A., J., J., and I standing at the back of the line until a member of the graying class sent us around, I guess I’m better at following directions. I was a little scared about having to sit up at the front and talk after we ate, so I ate very little, distractedly, and was too late to get a cookie before the staff took away the plateful of crumbs. Lucky me there were cupcakes later.

 

Arugula and chickpea salad

I forked down my salad with one hand and ran examples through the databases with the other, I don’t know how I can work so steadily and consistently and still be this behind. The heat is turned way up and the sweat rolled down my back as I figured out a new approach to using our reference database to talk about source evaluation. It’s pretty nifty, and at least impressed the teacher in class today. Luckily I have like twelve more chances to try it out in the next week.

 

Lettuce, chickpea, and quinoa salad

I lost my bamboo fork. Despair. It must have bounced out when I went wrangling for my Metrocard. Maybe it’s still at home on the counter. Maybe. I don’t know. But I went and asked A. if rumors were true, that she keeps a stash of plastic forks somewhere in her cube. She looked at me. Opened the door of the cabinet above her desk. Plunged her fist into the darkness. Rustled. Wrangled. And pulled out a plastic spoon and fork set. The spoon is white with a white plastic ghost for the handle while the fork is black with, M. and I decided as we ate kvetching and catching up at a table in the courtyard, some kind of haunted witch-hat-wearing jack o’ lantern handle that would fit better in a much smaller hand. Because I know you take care of your things, said A. as she handed them to me conspiratorially. I didn’t have the heart to inform her otherwise.

 

Quinoa, chickpeas, and arugula salad

I took a break from copyediting this totally depressing article about the militarization of anthropology in the wake of the war on terror to give some undivided attention to the second quarter of the Jets game over a plate of Friday’s leftovers. Wish Sanchez’s guns had been a’blazin’ like they were in the first quarter. In other words, can’t stop thinking about war.

 

Quinoa, chickpeas, and arugula salad

You know what’s great? Little bit of lemon, squeezed over everything. Just so refreshing. I loaded up a plate, ate in front of an episode of Top Chef, so glad I wasn’t eating that deconstructed chowder flan.

 

White bean and arugala salad, plus a banana

You know how when you’re out in the country for the first time in a long time and the lights go out and you hunker down thinking you’re about to sleep better than ever because there won’t be any sirens or reggaeton or feral, mating cats but actually you can’t get to sleep at all because the silence builds to such a hum in your ears that you’d almost rather a block party so you can get some flippin’ shuteye? The library noise at the end of my shift had built to such a din, it was all I could hear, I started to lose it. Grouchy and having approached a table with the objectless threat If I have to come over here one more time, I determined we’d all be best served if I shut myself up in my cloffice with my dish and my fork and a good long blank stare at the wall.

 

Salad with beets, artichoke hearts, and chickpeas

L. put some greens and purples on two plates, added some cheese, spread out a handkerchief to make an indoor picnic, and loaded this week’s Top Chef on the computer to watch with lunch. We ate and I harangued L. endlessly for the name of the person eliminated. (L. had watched it earlier in the week.) Thinking I didn’t probably really want to know, L. kept putting me off, You can ask again in five minutes, said L., and if you still want to know then, I’ll tell you.

 

Avocado sandwich, plus home fries and salad

Was she a really bad waitress? Did the kitchen forget our order? Were they waiting for the avocados to soften up before serving us our lunch? It took so long that I actually had to use the bathroom at the restaurant, even though we were like a six minute walk from my cloffice. Thank goodness we’re here in the waning days of summer, when there’s nobody really waiting on us but us, due back by 3:30 for a meeting.

 

Pizza and salad

Out of the woods, L. still redolent with campfire, we ordered fancy pizza (roasted garlic! kalamata olives!) and fancy salad (dried cranberries! gorgonzola!) and ate in a restaurant. There were so many people. It was so loud. I don’t want to go home yet, I said, welling up a little at the thought of retethering to my devices.

 

Quinoa, salad greens, cheese, and chickpeas

Taking a break from the whirlwind of furniture moving (how amazing that the new people moving in across the hall wanted some of those pigeonhole boxes, and one of the old book shelves! it’s fate!), I did my best to get somebody else to make lunch for me and my beloved. But alas, Sunday brunch–the taco place would only deliver eggs. In the rain. I’d rather eat quinoa, salad greens, cheese, and chickpeas. L. and I kicked up feet and watched 48 Hours: Mystery. Apparently, the entire population of the Philippines is really, really dangerous to white Americans. I consider myself warned.