Resthome food stories (2 of 4): Pizza, redux.

One day a few weeks ago my resthome coworkers sent me home with like half a pizza from a pizza box that was in our staff fridge in the office.

I had eaten a shit ton of the standard dinner at the staff meal that night, but then when I got home and unpacked my backpack, I went to go put the pizza in the fridge, and one slice looked so good, I ate it.

And, later I ended up having three more, then I forced myself to stop, so I'd be able to have some pizza for a meal later, maybe to take to the apartment of my one assisted living client with disabilities the next day when I went to go in to work.

But, the next morning I got up and I brewed my coffee and I went to go microwave my lentils like I usually do, and the pizza kept calling to me as I sat down to have my breakfast and read my Rolling Stone.

So, I was like "fuck it," and then I had one piece, and then I had the other one, and I ended up finishing off like all of the pizza, like less than twenty-four hours after I'd brought it home.

I mean, how often do I have pizza in the fridge?

So, if I feel like cold pizza for breakfast, why not go for it? 

It's not like it happens all that often, I can't even remember the last time this happened.