What I shove down my gullet never ceases to amaze me. No matter what lovely, nutritious, clementine oranges, homemade soup, whole-grain muffins, or greek yogurt I have in my fridge, I’d rather buy my lunch. I once had a coworker who’d look over my shoulder every day to see what I was eating–leftovers, or soup usually. Meanwhile, I was gazing in envy at their sub. She thought I was a domestic goddess, but actually I was too poor to buy lunch.
I don’t understand.
And why is plain coffee from the drive through better than a vanilla latte I made myself? And it takes about the same amount of time, maybe less, to make the latte. And why would I rather have a McDouble than barbecue my own burger? I mean, McDouble? Ick. I’ve seen Super Size Me.
I’ve heard this trend pinned on my generation–we youngbloods who have to have our Starbucks and are too cool to brown bag it. Well, I do love Starbucks, but I don’t believe that. If you’ve ever been to the McDonalds in my town at 10:00 in the morning, you will see wall-to-wall construction workers and retirees (and your humble, shift-working blogger). From where I sit right now–yes, I’m in McDonalds–I see mainly families and older folk. So is it just my generation? Heck no.
Everyone else is doing it too, but that doesn’t help me.
My wallet is what saves me. I just don’t have the budget to buy lunch every day. And even if I did, I’d be too cheap. When I was a kid I ate in a restaurant about six times a year, and those times were a huge treat. I think that’s still ingrained in me, even if I buy coffee twice a week, and lunch every second week. I want it to stay that way–special–so I guess I’ll have to pack my meals.
But, as long as I don’t have WiFi at home, I’ll be coming to McDonalds. Sneaky. Very sneaky.
How about you?
Geralyn Wichers 