
Lunch
It’s 12:58 pm.
I keep staring at the clock at the bottom right corner of my monitor. It seems like it’s been 12:58 for ten minutes. I am famished.
If my recent luck is to be believed, this is the time my boss will call on me to find something on his desktop. It’s always exactly where you’d expect it to be. Right at the center of his screen. I would offer to clean up his desktop and categorize his files but he’d say that he prefers his desktop “As is”.
I understand. There’s a certain order in chaos.
Boss man is reading the paper today. Thank God.
It’s 12:59 pm. Practically 1 o’clock.
I get up from my desk slowly. Quietly. My stomach has other plans and imitates the sound of a humpback whale searching for a mate.
If David Attenborough was in the vicinity, he’d perk up his ears and call the BBC.
“I have discovered something intriguing,” he’d say to an executive in his Attenborough voice. “It sounds like a humpback.”
“Will it make us money?” the executive would ask.
Scoffing, “I’m SIR David Attenborough.” Then he’d curse because I imagine that David Attenborough curses in real life.
I pat my stomach, “There, there Budapest,” I whisper. “It is well.”
I named my stomach ‘Budapest’ as it is the capital of Hungry.
Today’s agenda is simple.
Junk food.
Fries specifically.
I straighten, start to leave, then hear my boss’s voice behind me. “Mark, before you go, I can’t seem to find File X.”
I groan.
Budapest is having a fit and starts to sing the song of his people.
Budapest… ?♂️ ?♂️