More often than not, a friend would pass by my table in the dining center and ask me "why are you eating alone?" The answer is simple really. Because I'm hungry. That and also because I'm quite the slow eater. I'd much rather savor flavor (though that's an increasingly difficult thing to do around here) than practice gluttony with alacrity. And besides, I like to chew. It's therapeutic, if done properly; if not, it can get rather tiresome.
However, I do notice the ongoing trend of having to dine with another. Trend might be an understatement here, now that I think of it. Pressure's a better description. If so, I'm either immune or just plain indifferent to that lonesome feeling some get whenever they're holding a sandwich and watching nervously around (though probably zoning out) the cacophonous dining area. But I really am curious to know: Who sets these rules?
I mean, I am quite sociable if I want to and need to. But I don't see a reason to be constantly smiling at everyone every time. Honestly, it's tiresome and I do appreciate some time alone. And satisfying hunger is an activity I'd prefer to do at my own pace. In fact, I usually obtain fresh new ideas when I'm eating. This one's one of those moments. The idea of having a meal with a significant other is comforting, indefinitely; but if there isn't a significant other, I'd much rather sit back and enjoy my meal.
As... much as I can.
Speaking of which, the oranges are disgusting. The peel is so thick that my fingernails hurt trying to peel it open. And there's this waxy flavor on the fruit itself that disturbs my palate. I finished it, of course, but I doubt it if I'm ever going to pick up another one of those anytime soon. Why today though? Well, they look particularly orange today, so I thought that after a semester of inedible fruit the dining hall services would have to upgrade their standards. I am wrong to assume, apparently.
Hah... the irony of contemplating food, yet being severely critical about it. C'est la vie.
The weather is bitter today. A 5-minute walk under the misleading sunshine feels like a reluctant adventure through a thorn bush. The infinitesimal flakes feel like glass shards ripping through skin, and the frigid air petrifies the neck. Wear scarves, people. Of course, I made the unwise decision to traverse between buildings without mufflers so my ears felt like foreign appendages threatening to break off like Tostitos.
But I'm now back in the comfort of internal heating, and I'm not sure if I'm still up for the gym later in the evening. My god, it's almost four already? I have (well, not have really) to finish two books by tomorrow and I'm barely done with one. Until another wintry day then~
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