8.23am: A woman necking a gigantic freshly-baked sausage roll sits next to me on train.
a) absolute torture as love sausage rolls
b) while am a HUGE fan of the sausage roll, even I don't include them in the pre-9am food category.
8.45am: Porridge lasts FOREVEEEER. However, am reaching the dusty section at bottom of bag. Once milk is added is entirely sludge.
8.55am: Grumpy man from neighbouring office (who was rather disgruntled at my exploding porridge all over work microwave a few weeks ago) walks in.
8.56am: Grumpy man looks at me eating porridge oats from a mug, sniggers in a "silly girl" kind of way, and walks out.
8.58am: Debate smearing rude words in porridge sludge on his office door.
1pm: Leftover value-rice-extravaganza. "That actually looks... okay" comments colleague, unwrapping her tub of prawn paella.
1.15pm: Today, it would seem, everyone has decided to bring in leftovers to demonstrate their culinary expertise. Am sandwiched between a steaming bowl of Thai green curry and a giant wedge of lasagne. Sigh.
1.30pm: Craving jalapeno peppers. Taste buds are clearly crying out for a damn good slapping.
3pm: Some absolute legend has brought in cake! Hurrah!
3.15pm: Mug of tea + chocolate cake = today's first true burst of happiness.
3.30pm: Being technical and proper, there does only appear to be enough cake for one piece per person.
3.35pm: Slyly chug down second piece. Surprisingly, don't feel the slightest bit of guilt.
6.15pm: Tesco’s. Bethnal Green Road.
one tin of value beans 15p
two potatoes 43p
Total = 58p
Money left = £3.58
7pm: Remaining value fish fingers + value beans + dollop of fluffy-but-dry mash = dinner fit for a king. Well ok dinner fit for a child. A child at the mercy of parents who refuse to pander to branding.
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