Naked Lunch Break

Look away.

I’ve lost my appetite. Lately, I’ve been going to the gym on my lunch break, and therefore spending my precious free time in the strangest way imaginable. If you traveled back in time and told my seven-year-old self that in twenty-one years I would be spending lunchtime (every kid’s favorite time of the day) running on a glorified hamster wheel and changing in a locker room full of naked men, I would punch you in the gut and run screaming into the nearest cave. But, alas, here I am: sweating bullets on the treadmill and trying to avoid eye contact with Super Hairy Guy while millions of lucky youngsters are washing down crust-less peanut butter and fluff sandwiches with a cold carton of Hood 2% in elementary school cafeterias around the world. By the way, kids, congrats on the recent legislature proclaiming pizza a vegetable. You little tykes must have some real weaselly lobbyists in your back pockets. Seriously, impressive work. Anyway, I guess that’s life. One minute you’re rubbing elbows with the other second graders over tater tots, the next you’re crammed between two burly behemoths wearing hand-towels around their waists and chortling about how “Dallas couldn’t cover the spread.” On the plus-side, I get to eat lunch at my desk. Yep, there’s nothing quite as thrilling as eating and working at the same time. Look out, world! We’ve got ourselves a real adrenaline junky over here! Don’t try to tame him! He’s pure rock and roll!

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