Lunchtime stories...

Today, I went to heat up my lunch: tuna casserole. As I was heating up my lunch, I started thinking about how I was never satisfied. I feel like everything that I do is not enough. My degree doesn't even feel real. I think that's why I have been trying to celebrate as much as possible. I am trying to acknowledge my accomplishments and be satisfied, but I still can't help but feel like I have to move on to the next thing.

The microwave beeped and I went to take my food out when the whole dish went sprawling, in and under the microwave and on top of the mini-fridge, where the microwave resides. I cleaned up the mess (meaning I put it back in the container to eat because I have no other food) and I went to grab one of the Lysol wipes from the container and the wipe slapped me in the face. Symbolism, anyone?