If you open the division fridge on any given day, chances are, amidst the yogurt and juices, you'll see a brown bag that declares itself to be my lunch. Sometimes the bag has an extra note on it that says to back off, other times there are doodles, and there were a couple of days in June when ribbons adorned the bag.
Decision Scientist: Has someone been taking your lunch?
Moi: No, why?
Decision Scientist: So you have your name on the bag...
Moi: ... so no one will take my lunch. I like to cover my bases.
At this point in our conversation, a fellow RA came by and shared a marvelously gross story of her last place of employment, where someone did not have her lunch stolen, nor her sandwich- just her lunch meat. How awesomely awful is that? I want to meet the person who'd steal for lunch meat.
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