the theme for the week is bargains

Apparently.

You people have heard me complain often enough about the hospital cafeteria. There is rarely anything I want to eat there. When they do start carrying something I like, it inexplicably disappears after a few months or weeks, never to return again, and is replaced by something I don't like. And above all, it is ridiculously expensive for what it is.

Growing weary of all of the above, especially the amount of money I waste there, I have been doing better about bringing my own food to work. Uh, when my own refrigerator is stocked and when I'm not running out of the door late. No one said I was perfect. God. But it's been easier since Led Zep Girl procured us the bigger dorm fridge that actually keeps things cold. The old office refrigerator was skeery.

The one meal I do not mind buying at work two or three days a week, however, is breakfast. Because at breakfast, they have industrial oatmeal, and you know that is one of my greatest pleasures. (Well, within reason. I mean it's not on a par with performing oral sex, but since jezebel told me this weekend that's gonna give me mouth and throat cancer, and I'm sure oatmeal has antioxidants n' shit in it to combat that, it's all of a piece.) A large sized industrial oatmeal with my employee discount is $1.03, which I find quite reasonable, especially since I'm doctoring it up with Splenda and raisins and milk on their dime. But it has recently come to my attention that there is an even bigger breakfast bargain to be had.

In my quest to get in all the protein I am supposed to be eating, and because I am not a huge fan of the egg, I've been getting a little side of bacon with my oatmeal. (My boss: "THAT can't be good for you." Andrea: "It's good for my mental health.") The bacon is self-serve. They have a bowl all cooked up, with tongs, and you take how many pieces you want. The first day I got some, the grill lady made it a little too crisp, so the pieces were broken and it was hard to tell how many slices I actually took. Last Friday I got some again and this time I know I got four pieces. The cashier charged me "one bacon." Today, I got six pieces. Shut up, I was hungry. The cashier charged me "one bacon." I am so tempted to keep on pushing it until I see how many slices you can take before they call it two orders. There's gotta be *some* limit. Anyone want to meet me for brekkie, I'll try to get away with twelve pieces and we can share!

Oh, and what were you doing in work today anyway, Andrea? It's a federal holiday on which your department is closed, is it not? Why, yes it is! However, I had to come in for an "emergency." Take those quotation marks as you will. No worries, though. My belleh was full of cheap bacon.

xoxo