Where oh where are my colleagues? Must I face the Faculty Center alone? Eating whole grain pasta (that probably isn't*) is sad enough without the cloud of melancholy that comes from dining solo. Marinara sauce with chopped bell peppers helped a little, but what a gloomy end to the week. I could only imagine the witty conversation, the literary allusion, the professional pessimism that usually brightens my noon hour.
Until we meet again...
*OK, does anyone really believe that pasta is actually whole grain? It doesn't taste like any REAL whole grain pasta I've ever had. I call for an investigation.
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3 comments:
Whole grain means that's the pasta they dropped on the floor. It picks up a little, ahem, grain, along the way.
the gloomiest fact of all is that you had NO PEER pressure to eat there yet STILL you went back! Janice!!! Nooo! I can't believe you eat there. Let me show the wonderful dining world of Athens.
STOP the world. The anti-blogger has posted. On a blog. By herself!
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