Sometimes, I’m not sure what dinner is going to look like. Well, actually most nights I’m not sure what dinner is going to look like. At least until my heads in the fridge or I can smell something on the stove. But it’s a lot easier to picture standing in the kitchen, then it is sitting in a windowless room, editing all day. When you thought you’d be done hours ago. When you packed your lunch, and thought it would be enough. And you can’t decide whether to tough it out till you can get home and eat, or submit to your circumstances and go buy some sustenance.
And then that creeping hour sets in….it’s 8 o’clock. Hunger. Submission is inevitable. You’re not one who gets too wrapped up in your work and ‘forgets to eat’. It’s time to set out into the dark and see what is still open on campus. The best bet- Timmies. Who I can always count on for under $3 food when desperate (hello bagel and cream cheese).
Except when I approach the door, someone’s standing right on the other side. It’s security. I reach up to push the handle. But he’s flipping the lock. I look at him. Question with my eyes. My big pleading eyes. He looks back, tightens his jaw, sobers his gaze and gives a firm nod back, confirming my suspicions. Not tonight.
Sometimes dinner is chocolate milk and a bag of salt and pepper cashews. Because the only place still open is your student run corner-style store. Whose alternatives include some sort of meat that’s been under a heat lamp for 24 hours. And you don’t have time to get salmonella.