Don’t get between me and my food today!

Thursdays I’m usually grumpy because I stay up until midnight finishing Gossip Girl and then have to wake up at 6:30 to go to class. Last night I got even less sleep because there was a fly buzzing around my room and I had to chase it out at around 2:00am.

But today I didn’t feel particularly grumpy, until I went to the grocery store.

I should know not to go to the grocery store around lunch time, but it was literally the only time I’ll have this week and I had two cans of tuna and one orange to my name. Not a balanced diet. So I went to pick up a few essentials to last me until Sunday. I got into a short-ish line. I wasn’t in the shortest line, but the most convenient one. Up walks an old man and tries to cut me. I have none of it and firmly stand my ground. He taps me on the shoulder and says, “I’m going to cut in front of you.” WHAT? I think, and say, “Ummmm…why?” Then he points to a sign above my head that has a picture of a pregnant woman on it. Okay, so I was in the line for future mothers (aka pregnant women). It was all I could do to bite my tongue and not say, “Oh, so you’re expecting?” Then I did realize that it said something about “adultos mayores” (senior citizens) and “descapacitados” (handicapped). He goes, “I’m older than you so I’m going to cut in front of you.” I just said, “Ya, bueno,” and moved to the next line over which was actually way shorter and I was out of there before the lady had even scanned his first item. AND to top it all off, I even let a nice young man cut me because he had two items and I had about fifteen. That, and he was cute…hehe. So, take that, old man and your “preferential line”!!!!

Then I got home and started preparing myself a delicious turkey sandwich, on whole-wheat bread with avocado and lettuce. It looked divine and I was about to take a huge bite when my host mom came in and squaked, “Don’t eat bread! I have food! I’ll bring you food!” Usually when it comes to food and my host mom I acquiese, because it takes too much energy to argue with her. But today I not giving in. The conversation went something like this (translated, of course):

Me: But Ita, this isn’t bread. It’s a sandwich. It has turkey, lettuce, avocado and whole wheat bread. It’s very healthy. No mayonaisse either.

Ita: But you’re missing vitamins! I have meat and beans. I’ll bring you meat and beans. I soaked the beans for a few days so they have lots of vitamins.

Me (in my head): What???? My meal is way healthier.

Me (outloud): No, Ita, thank you, but I already made this and I don’t want to waste it.

Ita: But you can save it for dinner. If you don’t eat vitamins, you’re going to get sick. I don’t want you to get sick.

Me: I won’t be here for dinner, and don’t worry, I take vitamins every day.

Ita: Then you can eat it tomorrow for breakfast.

Me: No, thank you Ita, but I really want to eat it now. It’s my favorite kind of sandwhich and it’s delicious.

Ita: Fine. I’ll just leave. I won’t bother you anymore.

Do you see why I usually don’t argue about food? But anyway, at least I got to eat my “unhealthy” sandwhich that was apparently lacking in “vitamins.” Let me tell you, it was scrumptious!

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