Got up, went to work. There were an unusual number of contracts to get through, today. I don't sweat that. If there's one thing I don't sweat, it's the English language. The trick with contracts is - they're written in English. A lot of people want to act like or pretend that they're written in some kind of super-English, but really - no, they're not. It's just English. English doesn't befront me.
For lunch, it was one of those deals where I missed the lunch lady and had to settle for a hot cup o' Nissin "Cup Noodles" out of the vending machine. These are not to be confused with Cup O' Noodles. Those are noodles that are in a cup simply because that's where they happen to be: a cup o' noodles. Nissin "Cup Noodles" on the other hand, are noodles specifically engineered for the cup. Hence, "Cup Noodles."
If you make it according to directions the broth is too salty! Here's my method: after pouring in the hot water and letting it steep ("cook") for the prescribed 5 minutes, I go to the toilet and pour out about half that salty broth. Well, maybe closer to only one third. Right in the toilet! I usually leave the door open while I'm doing it. Why not? I've got my pants on! If there's something supposedly gross about that, I think that upon a rigorous course of self-examination you'll find that it's your own expectations of conformity to societal norms. Then you go back and re-fill up to the line with more hot water. Much better!
(I hasten to point out that I do flush. That wouldn't be a fair puzzle to leave to the next person. "Wha-h? peas?")
(I hasten to double-point-out that when pouring, I do my level best to conserve all the little bits and vegetables, and needless to say, noodles, in the cup).
(also, gross to point this out, but I read once that flushing with the lid up basically ejects a great deal of aerosolized particles which proceeds to coat every surface in the room, so the instant I hit the flusher and before it even starts spinning really, I am already rushing out the door with my Cup Noodles cupped protectively to my chest - the true reason I leave the door open! - got to get the heck out of there. More than once this has created the impression that 1) I eat Cup Noodles on the pot, 2) I am in the habit of fleeing from the bathroom as from a crime scene, and 3) I don't wash my hands after.
But as you can see, having had it explained to you, none of those apparent gaffes really fits the facts of the case. I have the highest concern for hygiene. I'm only protecting my Cup Noodles, here.)
So...after lunch, more contracts.
They don't befront me.
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