There's Rice In My Bra

I'm glad that I am the only one in my office right now. It seems that my stomach was starting to turn on me and I needed food quick like. So what do I do??? I order Chinese.

I have been craving Chinese food lately like it's my job. I almost kissed that little man when he handed me my food.

I rushed up the stairs and became angry that I work in a place we have to scan through doors. I lost precious food bonding moments.

Once at my desk, I ripped the bag open to find my order of crab rangoon. AKA heaven to me. Then I opened the styrofoam container and it almost had a light beaming from it as if I had hit the mother load. Orange chicken and fried rice. DROOL.

Let's not forget the sugar donuts. Those little fried sugar coasted drops of heaven speak for themselves.

I had to stop halfway between my chowdown fest, again, losing precious moments of food bonding. It seems that my fork wasn't a big enough shovel and along the way I lost all kinds of manners and was leaned over the container shoveling food in my mouth. Rice fell down my shirt and into my bra WHAT? I had to stand up and shake it out.

Classy.