I thought I grabbed a lemon yogurt but it was plain. The best part of the lunch, obviously, was the chunk of cheese, part of the block of manchego that belongs to me and only me in the refrigerator at home. I read S.’s chapter for the book she edited with B. Resonating all over the place, and incredibly brave. I put blueberries on my salad and they were so much better than my usual handful of raisins.

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Same lunch. Wished it was a burger. Stared at the Internet. 

I tried avocado in my sandwich today. Not feeling it, not feeling it, the texture, nope. Stared into the middle distance while I ate in my office. 

There’s something so lunch about a ham sandwich, just sounds like a metal lunch box, legs swinging over the side of the scaffolding, just repairing a bridge like you do when you’re working, a ham sandwich and maybe a thermos of soup. I had a yogurt instead. Super mega really not vegan. 

This, this is my dad’s breakfast, and here I am having it for lunch after a run and before the Purim party.

The roasted potato rounds were my favorite part of my lunch salad, even M. commented on them when she stopped by my ¬†office. Are those potatoes? Those look good! I think K. has really nailed the sweet spot in terms of size and shape of cut of potato for best roasted experience. She’s been doing a lot of practicing.

The baseball team has shoveled out a patch of grass for home plate, a thin apron for the outfield, batting practice in the frozen wind. I’m standing over the heat vent in my office watching swing after swing, eating the last slices of this browning pear.