Sorry, not sorry!

Blame it on hormones? Was I stressed? Was I actually just that hungry? Who knows, but I discovered that I really wouldn't want to come in between myself and food while I'm hungry, if I was you.

It was the other day, on Tuesday. Tuesdays are the notorious days, because it's the first long day to arrive during my week. I start my day off at 9:30 a.m., and I do not get home until about 8:00 p.m. I run around like a headless chicken, going to class for two and a half hours, then to work, then back to class for another two and a half hours.

Needless to say, food is pretty important (on a busy day, or any other day). I know that I'm looking forward to a big lunch on Tuesdays, because this is what happens when I do not get around to eating:

I'm sitting in my morning class and we're running late. I have a window of about 25 minutes to get from my campus in the east to my job out west. This does allow me time to stop for lunch as well. I look at the clock in class and now I have literately 10 minutes to get to work. I know I'll make it on time, but I know I'm DEFINITELY not stopping for lunch.

Bummer.

I get to work on time. I hear my stomach rumbling and angrily yelling at me for not feeding it on time. I try to get by with my minuscule granola bar, my (now) lukewarm coffee, and whatever other small goodies I can scramble from the office I work in.

The end of my work day is near, and I'm mentally preparing myself for the next portion of my day. I asked myself, "You know what's a great idea? Ordering Chinese Food to take with you to school!" Genius! I put in my order- chicken with string beans accompanied by white rice. I'm so stoked to pick up my order that I literately hopped and skipped out of the office.

It's time to leave work. My stomach feels hollow and I could actually feel it eating away at all my other organs in there. I couldn't concentrate on anything else except picking up this yummy food. I don't even remember what I did at work at this point, because my mouth is watering at the thought of eating. I walk into the food place, picked up my food, notice it's neatly packaged and the lady behind the counter even went so far as to staple my brown bag of food closed. Awe, how sweet!

I ran back to my car and now I'm driving across the L.I.E. This scrumptious food is suffocating me in my car. The smell of garlic and herbs is intoxicating, and now I'm anxious. I am so DARN excited to stuff my face in approximately another 20 minutes, and before I knew it I was doing 80 m.p.h. Thankfully I was keeping up with traffic...duh!

I get to campus and I park my car in a scurry! I turn my car off and I'm sweating. I throw my seat belt off, reach over and retrieve my packaged goods, rip open the brown paper bag, I pull out my little container of rice and my quart of chicken and string beans and lo-and-behold, there aren't any utensils. I repeat, there is not a single FREAKING FORK OR KNIFE ANYWHERE TO BE SEEN! I was left stunned, frustrated, disappointed. I went into a frenzy; I punched my seat. I opened my glove box and found nothing but napkins and a pair of fuzzy gloves. I tore my center console basically out of my car in search for SOME type of utensil. Nothing.

I was defeated. The smell of my food was making me delusional, and by this point I was drooling from hunger. I cursed of many times; I cursed my car, I cursed the bag, I cursed my Chinese food, I cursed the lady behind the counter who served me my TO-GO bag of food, I cursed her so hard. I couldn't understand one key thing: Why? WHY WOULD YOU GO SO FAR AS TO STAPLE MY BAG SHUT BUT YOU COULDN'T HAVE PACKED A FORK AND KNIFE...IN A TO-GO BAG? I was livid.

My next resort, to eat or not to eat with my hands? Not that I was so opposed of doing so but at this point in time, I only had about 15 minutes before class started. I started mapping out a game-plan. "Well I could run to the cafeteria, pick up some forks, literately inhale my food, but wait....what if I don't finish my food? Do I bring my food with me to class? No I can't do that, every one would hate me! I can't run back to my car, it's so far! I'd never make it on time to class! Do I eat with my hands? Oh my god, I've reached a new form of savage. What do I do now?"

I ate with my hands. I dug into that sticky rice with one hand, and I dug into my saucy concoction of damn deliciousness with the other. I can't really say that it was fulfilling though, because the amount of food that I was picking up with my fingers would only satisfy a bird's portion, so I was angry all over again. I said, "Screw it," and proceeded to repackage my food. My hands were covered with rice bits and sauce and it was time to go to class. My stomach was still yelling at me, too.

I repackaged my food, ever so neatly like I found it and left it in my car. I stomped out of the parking lot, ran to the closest vending machine, and ordered a bottle of Iced Tea and Pop- tarts. S'mores Pop-tarts, to be exact. I made it to class just in time although, to say the least I did not feel like a human being. My innards were screaming for some type of nutrition, my head was all fuzzy, I must have been pouting because my friend next to me asked if I was okay...Oh, I wasn't okay. I wasn't at all.

I'm explaining my woes to my fellow classmates; I'm explaining how I never smelt garlic so dynamic before and when my girlfriend interjected and asks, "So did you eat it with your hands? That's what they're there for..." I looked at her with disbelief! Wait, another human being said she would have just ate her Chinese food with her hands if she found herself in my situation! Incredible! My poor fellow classmates, I felt so bad for them. I think I scared them half to death with the crazed look in my eye, but I think they really didn't feel like talking to me because I was so salty. Oops!

Listen- I said some things that weren't nice, my thoughts were even worse, and I was just in a crabby mood from that disaster. I mean, I must have damned that poor woman to hell a countless amount of times. She doesn't deserve to be damned to hell! (Or does she? I mean really, all I needed was either a fork or a spoon. I would have even made a knife work!) I went to bed that night and dreamt of silverware- all types of silverware. Sharp knives, dull knives, sporks, forks, plastic white utensils that come in a huge package, the silverware downstairs in my kitchen. Apparently, I'm still salty over the situation because I'm venting about it now....a few days later.

Hangry, is a real thing. It takes over your body and your mind, and even your soul! Please proceed with caution the next time someone is hangry! You do not want to be caught in their path....you'll be sorry!