I was feeling lazy this morning. Nothing new about that, only this laziness translated into "I have no idea what to pack myself for lunch so I'll grab a rice noodle bowl."
This afternoon, my stomach started growling. Lunchtime.
I go into the lunch room with my noodle bowl, peel off the top, fill with water, and stick it into the microwave for three minutes.
I'm standing there, reading a Southern Living Magazine, wondering if they could possibly put any more fat content into their recipes, when I smelled something funny. Very...seasoning like. The realization hits me.
I rush over to the microwave and slap at the door release. It swings open. 40 seconds left on the timer. I pull out my noodles, and look into the bowl.
Floating on top of my noodles is a congealed glob of tin foil, leaking seasoning into my soup. Sure enough, I forgot to take the seasoning out of the pouch.
On the bright side, I didn't start a fire by microwaving foil. Blessedly, actually, as our office manager is very...serious about her role, and would have undoubtedly made me buy a new microwave. One three times more expensive than the existing one, no doubt.
On the not-so-bright side, I am eating bland, partially cooked noodles, wondering if my coworkers will get MY hospital chart in the morning for our daily data entry: "Patient admitted to ER with gastrointestinal bleed. She was trying to cook top ramen and forgot to remove the foil packet. Bleed is due to consuming shreds of partially melted foil."
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