I look like a ten year old today, in a large, comfy sweater circa 1984, chunky glasses and a mass of unkempt curly hair I’m growing out.  If I saw myself sitting behind my desk, which already looked too big for me, I’d want to hug me, too.

Combine that with the three giant cookies I’ve nibbled at in the 4 hours I’ve been at work (chocolate with Reese’s pieces, chocolate chip and M&Ms, peanut butter), and the current appearance of my desk — lunchbox and toy motorcycle — I think I’m already a contender for Cutie Cuddlebug 2012.  Or Mr Narcissist.  And yeah, that’s my Ducati.

In all (or at least a little) seriousness, I’m a huge fan of bringing one’s lunch to work or school.  It’s part of my philosophy of avoiding processed foods at all cost.  It’s so ridiculously easy that I’m baffled why I have to bring it up at all; exercising a little common sense will save your wallet, your waistline, and (if you bring your lunch in an adorable lunchbox like I do) make you really popular in the office.

I don’t understand why some people don’t have three free minutes to make a sandwich, or, better still, cook a little extra when making dinner the night before and when cleaning up, pack a bento/lunchbox/brown paper bag.  I reckon my lunchbox today, which was filled with turkey meatloaf, couscous, crispy, garlicky broccoli, and a salad, probably cost me an additional 30 cents last night at dinner and one and a half minutes of packing time.  Compared to the 10 bucks you’ll pay for a fat-loaded wrap, or the 5 bucks for sodium-satured frozen meal — I can’t help but wonder why more people don’t ascribe to this method, as my lunchbox kicked the ass of every other lunch in my office in cost, health, and most importantly, taste.

Now for another cookie.  Om, nom, nom.