Open Here.

I'm in an uproar. Time out: I don't know if you can actually be in an uproar, but if you can, I most certainly am. Actually, uproar has started to not even sound like a word I've said it so many times trying to figure out if you can be in an uproar. Time in.

Disclaimer: I am very happy to have a job. I am very happy to have a job that I enjoy. And I am very happy that I get a paycheck on the 15th and last day of every month. This post actually has very little to do with my job, if anything at all. But you can never be too safe, or have too many disclaimers.

I have a 9-5 job. To me, that means I work between, but not before or after, the hours of 9 and 5, respectively. Today, I got home at 7. When that happens I want two things... food and a couch. Scratch that 3 things. Food, a couch, and a new car. Had to throw that in because it's always on the "things I want" list. I'm hoping my mom reads this and is feeling generous. Here's to that, Treev. Anyway, I digress. I need food and a couch, in that order and quickly. So tonight when I got home 2 hours after I intended, I made my way to the freezer and pulled out one of my "I got home late and don't feel like cooking" purchases. Green Giant Garden Vegetable MEDLEY (I don't know why they got so excited about MEDLEY). "Simply steam in the bag!" it boasts. Easy enough, so I pulled out that bag, threw it in the microwave and starvingly (new word) waited 4 minutes for my meal to simply steam in the bag. By the way, 4 minutes is borderline too long to wait after working a 10 hour day, especially for a bag full of vegetables.

But anyway, I pulled it out and found the "open here" arrow, and as I've done so many times before, that's what I started to do. Then I kept trying to open it. And then I tried to open it some more. Then I saw another "open here" arrow right below the first one. And another one below that. And so on and so forth. This 5 inch by 5 inch bag containing 8oz of steamed vegetables had a total of eight "open here" arrows along with four more arrows labeled "pull". I frantically tried all twelve (I was a math major) areas which covered roughly every freaking square inch of this bag trying to open the darn thing not knowing if I'd ever get it open. I pulled and I tore, I dug my nails into the plastic, I even resorted to biting, Mike Tyson style. It wasn't pretty. And it wasn't classy either.

This bag was mocking me. I think it was trying to say "this is what you get for leaving me in the freezer until all the frozen pizzas were gone". And then it probably let out a maniacal laugh.

I decided that I was not going to lose my dignity by cutting this bag open with scissors. That would be taking the easy road, which we all know leads to nothing but destruction. So I jumped back on the straight and narrow and decided to fight to the end. To make a ridiculously long story even longer.... I lost. sigh. I.......... lost. shrugs shoulders while shaking head. I gave it my all, but it simply wasn't enough. Not even through Christ who strengthens me.

So, Green Giant Garden Vegetable MEDLEY. You may have won the battle. But believe you me, I will win this war.