Not a Salad Girl


I walked into the break room at work the other day to heat up my lunch. I would be feasting on leftovers from the night before – a parmesan-crusted pork chop with a side of mashed potatoes.

Usually our break room is deserted when I go in there (I tend to eat lunch pretty early since I start my work day around 7:30), but this day there was someone else in there. She was around my age, dressed in something I might wear, and she too was preparing her lunch.

A salad. Continue reading