There are real problems to ponder. Real issues to be irate about. Turn on the news; pandemics and natural disasters and the markets and the political nightmare-of-the-day.
Plenty of bigger matters.
But sometimes, the small stuff is just easier to focus my ire on. Like a rest for a weary mind.
Like, that the disappointing pizzas in the cafeteria are allasudden mini pizzas, not slices.
They aren’t suddenly any better, mind you. It’s just a different size and shape. Single serving. This is probably coronavirus related. Not wanting people to touch things.
But: The boxes to carry away are for slices, not mini-pizzas. They don’t fit.
Also, the mini pizzas are roughly (I would guess) the equivalent of two slices (I always buy one slice). And there’s no prices for the mini pizzas. I doubt they’re free, but there’s nothing so much fun as not knowing the price of something when you buy it. Especially if you know going in you’re probably not going to eat it all, so … wasteful.
The calorie sticker they still have up is also the per-slice sticker. So there’s another mystery I wasn’t hoping to build into my day.
Whatever. I think I have a granola bar up at my desk.