Definition of a bad idea...

Today was starting out so good. I woke up at exactly 4:39AM, 6 minutes before my alarm clock goes off, which meant that I was able to turn it off and get up without waking up Wifey. Decidedly a good start.

Because I leave home twice a week at the ungodly hour of 5:30, there was no traffic, and I got the best parking spot at my office building – it pretty much faces directly towards the exit so that when I leave for the day, I never have to look back at this awful place.

I get into the office at 6AM, and as per usual, nobody else is here. This is nice for two distinct reasons. 1. I don’t have to listen to my whiny-ass co-workers for the first 3 hours of work, and 2. I am free to fart as loud, and as frequently as I please. So far, I’m batting 1000.

I make a few phone calls, and the day’s going by pretty quickly. After-all, I only have to work until around 2 or 3, since I came in so early. And at this point, I’m pretty psyched. I have these grand plans to go home, rest for a little bit, and then go for a nice 4-5 mile run around the Charles River, because it is truly a beautiful day.


And then it happens…


At Noon, I head into the cafeteria where I usually purchase my lunch, and I take a look at the daily specials:

- Baked Meatloaf with Mashed Potatoes
- Classic Reuben Sandwich
- Chicken and Vegetable Curry
- Egg Salad Wrap
- Some Kind of Weird Quiche


So I take a look at the options, and I decided that today, I’m going to be worldly, I’m going to go with the Chicken and Vegetable Curry. I order my food, and wait a couple minutes for the guy behind the counter to hand me my meal.

When he does, it feels as though I was just handed a cinder block in a brown paper bag. This thing was heavy! If I had to guesstimate, I’d say that it easily weighed around 3 pounds.

No Problem, I tell myself – I’ll just eat half of it, and save the rest for tomorrow’s lunch. Yeah… that didn’t happen. Anyone that knows me can attest that if there’s food in front of me, it doesn’t stand a chance.

3 LB of Chicken and Curry later, I’m sweating like an Injun in the Alamo (did I mention it’s hot out today?), I smell like the dude that sits diagonal from me (which is not a good thing), and I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to stand up to walk to my car any time soon, let alone go for a 4-5 mile run.




Definition of a bad idea.




- Jack Asher