My computer has been broken for over four hours now. I had to bring it back from the grave with the help of the guy next door. (Thanks as always, Michael.) I had to open it up, shock its brains out by pressing a tiny reset button, bang on its chest with a TechTool Disk, zap the P-RAM (whatever that is) and then, in an act of finality and desperation, I physically pulled the plug on it and left it for lunch.

They won't consider buying a new computer unless every crash is documented and all hours of repair are accounted for, to prove that they need to buy another computer. Like a broken computer isn't a valid reason. Pretty neat, huh? Logically, the new computer is not for me, it's for them. Therefore, it's actually not my problem since I know how to fix the computer: Get a new job.

Onto a much more interesting aspect involving the workday: Lunch. I am currently obsessed with bentos.




My obsession is based completely on space. This thing is great. It has three compartments – two separate compartments for food and one more designed to hold chopsticks and a spoon. All stackable. The color is boring; why couldn't it be red. And this one is billed for "heavy eaters." Lucky me. But hey, I must have a bento. It's the Japanese Mini Cooper of lunchboxes.

But still, nothing can compare to the Barbie Make Me Pretty lunchbox I had not so long ago. That's what I called it anyway. Ah, good times. I took it to work with me everyday for a year or so during the Better Days of My Career. I can't even find a picture of it anywhere. It was a simple, pink, square box. When opened. it had a comparment for a sandwich on one side and a three-sectioned compartment on the other side for small pretzels, grapes and even orange slices. One day, I opened up the box and heard a cracking noise, and all was lost. Must've been my heart because I have never been happy with any other so-called lunchbox ever since.

I told you I was obsessed.