I Forgot To Order Lunch And Now I Want To Quit

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I woke up Wednesday morning fired up. Not only was the week half-over, but it was the day that our office manager would be sending out the weekly lunch survey for our Friday team lunch. The anticipation of what would be included at this week’s feast always has me on edge. We goin’ pizza this week? Maybe Chipotle? Or, if we’re lucky, we snagged some call-ahead Franklin’s BBQ to put the whole office into a meat coma we won’t get out of until Saturday morning. It’s the best email I’ll get all week.

Here I am, on Friday morning, contemplating what I should do about my future. My options are limited. Taco Deli was the choice for this week. Who doesn’t love them some good tacos? Apparently me, because on Wednesday at 3 p.m. I forgot to send in my order. That’s a serious deadline to miss. Sure, we’ve all missed implementation deadlines, but those can be overcome. Missing your lunch order? That’s just downright reckless. Now I have to face the music.

I can’t work at full capacity right now with images of co-workers savoring their tacos, cracking jokes amongst each other, only to stare off at me crying in the corner. It’s a sad image. There will be a ray of hope when someone says they don’t want their second (or third) taco, but before I have a chance to grab it, someone will have already laid claim to it. My boss will crack a joke at me something along the lines of, “Watching your figure?” while taking a bite of his Al Pastor taco, rubbing it in my face.

I can’t deal with that kind of shame. Not today. Not on a Friday. This is my battle and I must beat the story before someone else breaks it. Tom in accounting is a chatty-Cathy and surely would leak this kind of vital information to the press. Think of the questions I’ll have to be answering. I’ll be peppered more than Cam Newton after the Super Bowl.

I know what I have to do. I have to quit. Think about it. Do I want to spend an hour with my peers starving while they toss back a meaty, cheesy, wrapped in a tortilla goodness? That’s an anxiety that no human can deal with. How am I supposed to concentrate on the meetings after? How am I supposed to survive the next few hours until lunch knowing my fate?

Packing my things up right now and headed out early seems like my only option. Sure, I could’ve packed a lunch or gone to get something today. But I’ll never be looked at the same by my co-workers. This is the end of the road for me. Rock bottom. I can never recover. So with that, I am bidding adieu to my fellow co-workers.

Adios. I’m going to go get me a taco.

Image via Shutterstock

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