Why I never take a lunch

A $20 donation, 2lbs of homemade black bean-corn salad, and a half-hour of hell was the sum total for my lunch today. One of my co-workers, Michelle, who I’ve known for 10 years, is pregnant with her second child…yeah, with her first daughter entering college this Fall, this baby was an unexpected surprise for her and her boyfriend. Her "Baby Shower Luncheon" was today.

As I strolled through the potluck line, I overheard another co-worker listing out names….Sally, Julie, Denise, Susan, "COPS"….Upon hearing my name, I turned to the gaggle of hens who were chatting and said "Did I hear my name?".

A fat-cow-bitch had the nerve to say, "Oh, we were just listing out the never-married spinsters left in this office". No shit…."never-married spinsters". To which I chuckled for a moment, then replied while spewing fire…"Spinster, huh? Well, I suppose life could be worse….like having two children by two different husbands who both left me within 6 months of the children's births, as well as a third child by a man whose identity I can’t quite pinpoint….not that I’d actually be so horrid as to list those women by name, Heather". Choke on that all weekend, you Trailer-Trash-Wench.

I wished the best of luck to Michelle, gave her a hug, grabbed my plate of shitty food, and headed back to my office. And that, Follks, is the reason I work through lunch nearly every day.