Most mornings I take a couple of pieces of fruit (say an apple and mandarin) and a bit of lunch into work, whence I proceed to the ergonomically-designed chair (which shall henceforth be known as the Stately Pleasure Dome). At this point we all sit down and eye one another warily.
The mandarin is quickly demolished. The apple is summarily dismissed. At this point in the proceedings it is, maybe, thirty minutes into my day at work. Then, a subtle battle of wills begins with the Sultry Vixen of Temptation (the lunch) sitting on the desk. I look at it. It looks at me. I say to myself, 'no, wait for a while, or you'll have nothing to eat for the next four hours'. The Sultry Vixen of Temptation lasciviously licks its lips, winks its eyes, sways its hips, and before I know it, I have eaten it.
Last week the Sultry Vixen of Temptation was a peanut butter and currant sandwich. Yesterday it was a plastic container of grey mushroomy-sauce and cold pasta. Today, well, who knows what it will be? All I can say is, it's getting a little annoying having to face up to a Sultry Vixen of Temptation like a peanut butter and currant sandwich, because the inevitable moment in which they win me over and I stuff them into my gob seems a little ignominious.
So maybe I'll start taking some chocolate cake into work instead. That would seem to lead to a much more satisfying outcome.
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