Procrastination is the Mother of Invention

This one will be a quickie.

….

I’m a writing tutor and format reviewer for theses and dissertations.  I’m remarkably underpaid, but thank goodness my work is appreciated and my job satisfaction exceeds those of pole dancers and sanitation workers.

Come to think of it, I whore out my talents to rid the world of garbage writing.  I need to reiterate my dismal pay scale.

But this post isn’t about my floundering career path, or the state of literacy in our college students.  It’s about sandwiches and their siren call whilst one is sitting at a desk, gnashing one’s teeth over the almost unbearable irony of someone submitting a dissertation, for which they will receive a doctorate, that displays a complete and utter disregard for and inability to follow directions.

There’s only so many loads of laundry, clearing out of freezers, and waiting on one’s mother one can do to avoid looking at one more document.  What is that rumble?  Could it be my stomach?  Is it already 3:00pm?!

GIMME FOOOOOOD!

I have to insert here that I am currently living in a kitchen limbo, with my favorite foods back at my soon-to-be-vacated apartment and my ailing mother’s soft, MSG and fat-laden foods filling the cupboards.  As tempting as it is to just dig into the giant crystal bowl of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups and Hershey’s Kisses on the end table,  I crave something……meaty, vitaminy, and grainy.

Here’s what I have:

Rose Chintz china plate

Caraway Rye cocktail bread

Fresh spinach

Shaved turkey

Jack Daniels Honey Mustard

Pure horseradish

Turkey Pepperoni

Gruyere

Combine.

Three sandwiches, bitches!

Eat.

I’m never going back to work again.