When I was in high school, I had the same locker for all four years and so did the girl next to me. We got along really well even though we were polar opposites of each other. She was showered, very put together, wore pearls, and came from a family that I imagined wore bathrobes. I was unshowered, half-asleep, and wore the same thing to school as I wore to bed the night before (and would wear later in the afternoon to volleyball practice). One morning, as we both were getting ready to go to homeroom, I complained about how hungry I was. "Didn't you just eat breakfast?" she asked. "No. I never eat breakfast. I always wake up too late in the morning," I said. She told me that every morning her whole family ate a full breakfast together at the table accompanied by classical music. I was impressed. I'd never known anyone so proper!
Yesterday, I believe I made what would be considered a very proper lunch: a Composed Salad of Roasted Broccoli, Romaine, Chickpeas, and Walnuts from Martha. No one ate it with me and there wasn't any classical music playing in the background (just the distant sound of my kids fighting in the back bedroom) but it was fussier than most dinners I make. I thought about my locker neighbor and imagined her going home for lunch (instead of staying in the cafeteria and eating nachos with the rest of us) and having her mother make her a Composed Salad of Roasted Broccoli, Romaine, Chickpeas, and Walnuts. That's what I thought about, anyway. Anything to pass the time in the kitchen. Oh, and the salad was really good, too.
