I’ve been on the road a lot recently for work.
Wednesday, I was coming back from an event in Morgan County, and while I didn’t have much time, I needed to grab something to eat. I stopped at the Zanesville Wendy’s off I-70 (a Wendy’s I have been to many times before) to get something quick.
While eating my fingerless-chili, I was thinking that technically, I have an hour for “lunch.” And while I wasn’t taking the full hour that particular day, I have that time available to me.
The best part of it all is that while it’s a mid-day break, no one is forcing me to eat lunch during this hour. If I had wanted to, I could have toured Zanesville. I could have driven across the Y-bridge 20 times. I could have gone to the nearby state park to collect leaves. I could have done anything but eat lunch.
At that point, I decided to stop referring to the hour as my “lunch” hour. Instead, I’m going to refer to it as the “hour of me.” It’s more accurate, don’t you think?
These are the things I think about when I have a few minutes to myself. Free thought is a dangerous thing.
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