Tuesday is all-eat-together morning. All other days I make my own sandwich in the kitchen as I arrive and feast on it in front of my laptop. The reason I do so is simple.
It saves me time.
I can spend more time at home, go for a longer run, do my stretching (very important to me, I love/need/must do it, especially at weird places*, don’t be to startled if you see me bend over in the ATM-line, touching my feet wit ha restraint grump), perhaps a quick workout, get all wet in the shower etc, etc. I like to do all those things at a more relaxing pace.
But today I was remarked on my behavior. A woman here, without mentioning her name, we’ll just call her Marie, obviously thought I was "cheating" (very weird choice of word know, but then again her comment was very weird) or something. But she didn’t say it clearly. More, commented what I did with big surprise and loud voice, so everyone would hear that she would love to do so herself – but couldn’t – but Christian, he, he obviously can. All with a big smirk on her face. And all I did was grin right back at her. But inside, thoughts were spinning.
Yes I can, Marie. That’s why I do it. Moron.
*Not because I want to, but it’s usually at weird places it strikes me, “hmm maybe I should stretch a bit. Like now”.
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