Let me tell you about my workplace.
There’s always food on the 3rd floor, in the big pantry. I’d arrive at my desk every morning at 10 a.m. sharp. Then I would throw my handbag on my desk on the 6th floor, and walk downstair to where the food is. Salad–one big bowl of salad every morning, with boil egg and tuna, seasoned with Japanese sesame dressing, plus a couple of non 100 % whole wheat toast, spread upon with peanut butter which would be topped upon by slices of banana. Ummm. There would be orange juice sometimes when I need sugar injection. That’s the breakfast. A very big breakfast. A good day starts with a good breakfast they say. Can’t wait until next Monday morning already.
There’s always milk in the fridge, milk, yoghurt, orange juice (I wonder why they don’t add some other juices. But I don’t mind having orange juice every day though. Orange juice is classic.) There are three ice-cream flavours in the freezer, four kinds of bread with five spreads: peanut butter–organic or Skippy, you choose, two types of jams, Nutella, butter, and organic honey. Cereals in the cupboard, variety of nuts on the big table. There’s freshly grounded coffee, cacao powder. Maybe I haven’t made a thorough exploration of the kitchen yet.
At 3 p.m., it’s fruit time. Sometimes it’s mangosteens, rambutans, longans, or mangoes. But often times it’s apples, sweet melons, guavas, and pineapples. There are often grapes too lately. A very healthy prospect, if only I don’t surrender to the imaginary taste of peanut butter–its chunkiness, the perfect something between sweetness and saltiness, but I usually give in, and that’s how I gain one kilogram after the course of three weeks–the company’s fault.
I was planning to write about my workplace, I ended up writing about food in my workplace. Pardon my gluttony.