Originally written April 2020

Friends, let me take you on a journey with me. The journey of my lunch today.

I’m considered an essential worker, although I work in an office. Despite technically being an essential worker, I have been mostly able to work remotely during this strange phenomenon known as a global pandemic. But for the past two days I have been going down to the office to work alongside a skeleton crew of my team. To thank them for being in the office, I offered to order everyone lunch and together everyone decided on Chili’s.

I don’t eat at Chili’s regularly. I don’t think I could, with any level of certainty, tell you for sure of a single thing they have on their menu. So, when ordering lunch for my team, I scanned the menu looking for something appealing that I could also eat at my desk. I decided on the fajitas.

Readers, this was a mistake.

I had forgotten, in my excitement at being in a work space other than my dining room, that there is a protocol around what does and does not constitute work-appropriate food. I normally would approach the choice of eating fajitas at work the same way I would question eating sushi on a first date (I’m not great with chopsticks).

I forgot that fajitas are inherently messy, and this is compounded by my inability to exercise moderation when piling the ingredients into the (too-small) tortillas. I forgot the anxiety that begins to build when I realize that the fajita fillings are highly disproportionate to the number of tortillas provided (4? 4???). I forgot the panic when the tortillas inevitably split, releasing their contents to the ether.

I forgot that computer keyboards, when subjected to splatterings of guacamole, are unforgiving.

Like Icarus flying too close to the sun, I dared greatly with my lunch choice and paid the price. Or rather, my desk paid the price. Well, I did too. It was sad to wipe chunks of salsa off my mouse and dig grated cheese out from between the keyboard keys, knowing that if I had exercised only a little more self-control, I would be eating said food instead of cleaning it up.

I only hope that anyone reading this will learn from my mistakes. Remember…unless you’re prepared to look like a complete idiot that never learned how to feed yourself…don’t order fajitas. Order a sandwich like a normal, sane person who knows their limits.

My desk looked like a toddler workshopped a culinary class.