Lunch, Schmunch

I work with a bunch of Fellas, so they do not comprehend the true meaning of “lunch.” To them, the  term actually means eating a mid-day meal on or about the noon hour.  Hey, I like to graze on leftover Kung Pao with my tie flung over my shoulder as much as the next gal.  However, a committed AWM knows the true purpose of this respite from the Kid-Free Fantasia called “work.”  This time-out in the middle of the day is a call to battle for AWM’s across this great nation of ours.  A call to organization.  A call to time-management.  A call to Target! 

No shit, don’t you find you get your best work done during the lunch “hour?” And I use that term loosely, as I rarely get all of my errands done in 60 minutes.  Who wants to take care of business on the weekends, with all of your rugrats in tow?  Getting gas, getting the dry-cleaning, getting the class snack for the Valentine’s Party, getting your nails done is just so much easier when you are solo, with the “I-Gotta-Get-My-Ass-Back-To-The-Office-Before-They-Notice-Just-How-Long-I’ve-Been-Gone” Boogeyman breathing down your neck!  A bang trim, a pharmacy run, a trip to the tailor’s can all be done lightening-speed under that kind of pressure. 

Call me insane (everyone else does), but I think one should occasionally go out to lunch on a weekday and dine with other humans.  The Fellas don’t grasp that either.  My excitement about having a leisurely, gossip-and-carbohydrate-filled lunch with other AWM’s is so intense, it’s a little sad.  Once all of those not present have been picked apart like a flattened armadillo swarmed by buzzards, the last smear of queso is scraped out of the bowl, and the check is meticulously divided amongst the parties down to the last cube of ice, I am refreshed and ready to go back to work. And there is no way in hell that can get done in an hour, sorry!  If you are worried about sliding back into work after a Lengthy Lunch, please see earlier post “Tardy to the Office Party; Or, How to Cause A Distraction Without an Incendiary Device” below. 

The Fellas are further confounded by my lack of desire to join them for the noon feast when I actually do stay in the office at lunch.  Please!  Don’t they realize that lunch en suite is the opportune time to read up on the latest act of mental  genius of Lindsay Lohan, or to peruse online retail outlets?  Grunts, coughs, belches, and the stalwart silence of a Fellas Lunch be damned!  Gimme a Kardashian Underwear Mishap!  Gimme free shipping at J. Crew!  Gimme a crumb-filled keyboard any day!  {Let me enter a disclaimer here:  I find the monkeyshines of “celebrities” to be insipid, vapid and tasteless.  But I am a dog going back to my vomit when it comes to reading the tabloids.  They make me feel better about myself.  I wasn’t involved in a Sexting Scandal  at a Pre-Grammy’s Party with Justin Bieber! (or was that me???)}. 

Rise up and respond to the call, AWMs!