Why can’t any of us stop eating the sandwich? Please post your theories in the comments below.
Have you been eating that sandwich again?
What is your sandwich?
Will anything stop you?
This Week, I Think
Why can’t any of us stop eating the sandwich? Please post your theories in the comments below.
Have you been eating that sandwich again?
What is your sandwich?
Will anything stop you?
I am about to unwrap a roast beef sandwich on whole wheat, with provolone, mayo, lettuce, salt, and pepper.
Before long I will be eating a peanut butter and dill pickle with mayo on rye. Haters abound, but I love it.
I am…..very intrigued by this combo. I may have to try it tonight!
It’s quite tasty. Usually I opt for whole wheat or multigrain, but rye adds a little extra zip. It was my grandma’s favorite… apparently very popular back when she was a girl in the 30’s.
Peanut butter with pickled jalapenos on whole wheat is my favorite sandwich of all time, and packs hydrogen bomb amounts of energy. And no one steals a bite, even the dogs.
Oh man, I was going to try to be sensible today and eat a cheapie meal I have on hand at the office, but this is making me crave a nice sandwich SO MUCH.
Well, this took me to a darker place than I needed to be.
I have… several sandwiches. I can’t stop trying to convince a lazy, arrogant coworker to do his job well, which I know leads to nothing but frustration, and yet I keep starting conversations with him instead of just letting it go like I should.
And my food sandwich this time of year is Cadbury Mini Eggs, which I keep eating past the point of discomfort. (Unpopular opinion – Cadbury Cream Eggs are not great. Minis over them any day. That shell is made of something magically tastier than other candy shells.)
I agree wholeheartedly on the Cadbury Eggs! The Cream Eggs are unnatural, oversugared monstrosities whereas the Mini Eggs are like if M&Ms were 50x more delicious.
Unpopular opinion – Cadbury Cream Eggs are not great. Minis over them any day.
This should not be an unpopular opinion. This is The Truth.
And yet we fans of the minis don’t get out of season service a la the Cadbury Screme Eggs… injustice.
TRUTH
The Minis are amazing. Even perfect. Every year, I buy and eat one Cream Egg. And then remember that they’re way too sweet and sort of terrible.
The Cadbury Cream Eggs of the 80s were fucking delicious. I don’t know what this poison shit is they’re putting in them now but I remember the last one I ate probably seven years ago was such a disappointment.
It’s because they changed the recipe. You have to go to the UK to get the original. I actually learned this from the Ronna and Beverly podcast. They have a thing about Cadbury from the UK. U.S. Cadburys are not welcome in their presence.
Well, U.S. Cadburys aren’t welcome in my presence, I tell you what.
Eh… it’s possible they’ve changed the US ones again, but I did a taste test a few years ago with American creme eggs and British ones and they tasted the same to me.
Mind, I did the test because the year before, the chocolate on the American ones suddenly tasted different and I wondered if they’d started importing them, so I figure they could change again at any time.
The creme eggs were amaaaaazing when I was a kid and candy was a treat and a HUGE gob of sweet goo was a candy treat I could stretch out for, like, a MINUTE OR TWO. Now that I can buy my own candy and don’t even WANT to that often, a creme egg is a dragged-out trial of sugar.
Isn’t it the fucking worst that there’s almost no time of your lifespan in which you are under your own supervision, with money, and desiring endless candy? Like by the time you’re financially stable, your tastes have changed. What a waste.
hey now, speak for yourself. i have eaten my weight in gigantic reese’s eggs this year and it OWNS. child-me is alive and well and high af on sugar inside my dumb adult body.
…that describes the majority of my lifespan. The only obstacle I have left is type 2 diabetes.
TBH you should probably be glad you have this survival mechanism.
I am team Creme Egg, though I will admit to feeling a little nauseated after I eat one. Happy, but slightly nauseated. The mini eggs are just glorified M&Ms.
I love Creme Eggs but it’s possible I’m the sugar equivalent of knurd.
Mini Eggs forever and always. I literally pick up a bag every time I’m at the store and stash them away for the rest of the year. I still had them last Halloween.
I hate cadbury creme eggs and yet I semi-compulsively steal and eat them all the time. They’re just so… stealable.
I believe eggs are meant to be stolen. Ask a snake or a fox, for example.
I like the Creme Eggs just fine, but I will (and do, up to five or six times a season) eat an entire bag of mini eggs in a few hours.
Honestly, for me 1 bag of anything = one portion. Who are these people who open bags and do not finish them?
WITH YOU! creme eggs are hideous monstrosities.
I enjoy both Mini Eggs and Creme Eggs, but I completely agree with you about the magically tasty shell of the Mini ones. I will sometimes find myself chain-eating whole bags in a very short amount of time, even though I know this leads to a sugar headache.
Fortuitously, this recipe for chocolate dipped Cadbury Mini Egg blondies appeared in my RSS feed yesterday. I’m tempted to make them and feed most of them to my coworkers.
THANK GOD that Mini Eggs are only available a few months out of the year. I bought one 12 oz. bag already and finished it within 36 hours. By myself.
Mini-eggs! This is weird, but: part of the reason I love them is that if you get one with a shell that’s not cracked and you suck on it, it will crack in your mouth with a little pop. But this is something I remember from childhood and I’ve never found an uncracked one as an adult so I’m not totally sure it’s real, the end.
Laser attention to men who won’t give women space, particularly on public transportation. It doesn’t change a thing besides my blood pressure, and yet I SEE YOU WITH YOUR ELBOW IN THAT WOMAN’S FACE, BRO, I SEE YOUUUUUU.
This is me, every week. UGH.
Oh my god, this guy on the bus yesterday kept elbowing me in the tits whenever he went to pull his cell phone out of his pocket and it was driving me insane. Like, they are not a big target! Thank god the pushup padding absorbed most of the blows.
The number of guys involved in a long, involved text convo who yet feel the need to replace their phone in their back pocket at each text while they are sitting is STAGGERING. Like, I really needed my entire left side to be poked at 45 second intervals with your elbow, thanks guy.
I also get frustrated with the wing arms. Do your arms have to be perpendicular to your body to use your phone? Additional negative points for the forward lean. What is the point of that? Does having your phone one foot from the floor of the car make reading easier?
Maybe they are keeping their texts on the down-low?
I know! They’re gonna reply in like ten seconds, you can just keep holding it, broseph!
Whyyyyy. Just accept that you need the phone, dudes, and minimize the space you take up for once.
I recently spent a flight stick in the middle seat btw two guys who knew each other, refused to move, and then talked past me and rammed elbows into me for three hours no matter what I said. I have seen this episode of five-0 and I’m pretty sure this scenario never ends with me banging Alex O’Loughlin in real life, nor would a wealth of orgasms fix it.
YES. There was a middle seat open in a 3-seater yesterday and the guy on the right was sleeping and his legs were spreading into the middle seat so I sat down and pushed (shoved, perhaps) his leg over with my right leg. He woke up and looked at me like “hnnnf? why is someone disturbing my rest?” Because you can’t take up more than one seat, that’s why. Get your act together before you take a nap on your commute home. #nomercy
I felt good about that for a moment but then the guy on the left kept contorting himself to look around to try to figure out what station we were at. A lot of guys have been doing this lately, not caring whether I want to have their faces RIGHT IN MY FACE. Just pay attention! It’s not that hard to keep track of where you are.
I was literally sat on twice in the last two weeks. I can’t even anymore.
A friend of mine once sat opposite of a really bad spreader and decided to stare unblinkingly at the guy’s crotch until he closed his legs. This was awesome.
Ooo, I’m doing that from now on!
Did it work?
I was heading directly to a rehearsal from work last week, so I climbed on the bus with a suitcase and a headache and tried to find a place where said suitcase would be out of the way. There was one sideways seat in between two manspreaders (one on his laptop) and I snapped and just shoved my ass right in between them.
Then I straddled my suitcase and rested my arms on my purse in a comfortable but tense posture so they couldn’t take up any extra leg room OR extra arm room. It felt glorious.
Oh no, this is my sandwich. Glaring at people from the other side of the aisle, hoping my laser-like focus will somehow make them stop spreading into the space of the person next to them! Insisting on taking up my proper allowance of space at all times, even when this means sitting with my arm jammed up against someone’s elbow and having to keep nudging their knee with mine! My commute would be so much less stressful if I could stop registering the people around me taking up more space than they are entitled to and hating them for it, but I cannot. (I should be fair and say that I also direct this laser attention at women who do it, but men are definitely worse.)
Yeah my policy is that I try to take up as little space as possible but the moment somebody gets in my space I spread right back out. If they’re going to make me uncomfortable for the entire commute then they’re going to get my elbow in their ribcage.
I try to take up only the space I am entitled to (so my seat, encroaching onto no more than 50% of the armrests), but I will occupy that space very aggressively.
I recommend ostentatiously taking a picture. This also works for people who are parking in more than one space. Take the picture, and if asked, tell them you have a website where you highlight people’s rude public behavior. The beauty of it is you don’t actually need to do anything with the picture; they’re going to be upset by the idea that they’re going to be outed, and tend to reconsider their behavior. (It’s led to interesting conversations from time to time, and since I’m also really good at verbal self-defense, those tend to work out fairly well.)
One of these days I wil acquire a phone with a camera, and then NO MANSPREADER WILL BE SAFE.
In a really literal sense, my sandwich this week is brewed coffee. I accidentally got up to 3 cups a day last week (was working 11+ hour days) and so this week I’ve been drinking none in the morning, getting a caffeine headache, having a cup on an empty stomach in the afternoon, and then having shaky hands by 3:30. It’s not smart. This is why I usually only drink espresso things.
Getting over my innate indiscipline enough to not marathon star trek original series till 4 inthe morning every damn night. I mean YES UHURA I LOVE YOU but I can also love you in the daytime/evening?????!!
Reading the comments on any internet article, blog post, listicle, gif, that has a commenting option. I can’t stop myself. Sometimes I skim the article and spend more time on the comments, even if or especially if they’re horrible. (Except The Toast of course, where the comments = the fresh-from-the-toaster oven version of the tastiest sandwich, made by a kind lady with a sparkle in her eye, who baked the bread!)
Ugh same. Even when my stomach start hurting (looking at you, Fox News Facebook page), I can’t stop.
I can’t stop reading local news comments. I know I’ll hate everyone but I HAVE TO LOOK. It’s like how I swear I won’t slow down by that wreck but whoops there’s the brake!
I’m even worse. I read comments on (and the articles fom which are equally as nutty) Natural News. Basically, weed enemas will cure what ails you, and the New World Order is out to get you. It’s stage 4 sandwich
I’ll sometimes read the Twitter timelines of people who are bigots or trolls, just to see what their DEAL is. It’s a dark dark place, and I just can’t stop dooooinng iiiiiiiit.
I read the comments, complain about how much people suck, and then go back and read some more. It’s so annoying but I can’t stop.
(Toast comments are the exception.)
Ugh, yes. I work in a creative field, and most people in my life do as well; “never read the comments” is a long-held maxim. Not only do I still sometimes read comments in general, I read comments on articles /about the work of people I know and like/.
This is my moldering, festering sandwich. (Well, one at least.) /Why do I keep eating the sandwich/.
SUGGESTION NOTED
my sandwiches are people who disappoint in the same ways because that’s who they are, and yet every time, it’s a fresh surprise and betrayal, because that’s who i am. lol nothing matters, etc. etc. etc.
THIS THIS THIS THIS. In particular I have been really struggling with a particular friend for a while now. Every time I reach out to talk to her I get so frustrated but really…I’m getting frustrated over stuff she ALWAYS does, stuff I KNOW going into the conversation that she probably will do. Why do I expect her to be different?! At what point am I just DOING THIS TO MYSELF.
My sandwich is continuing to see someone whose behaviour continues to indicate that they don’t care about me all that much but who I keep making excuses for because MAYBE if I try REALLY REALLY HARD, they’ll see I am MORE THAN A PIECE OF MEAT. Woof.
I’m an internet stranger and I think you’re fabulous and deserve way better than someone who is indifferent to you.
That is not a tasty sandwich. At all.
And the REALLY wacky thing is, he’s not even treating me like a good piece of meat! Like, if you are (urk, this metaphor is getting gross but oh well) eating a piece of meat that you enjoy, you’d say stuff like “wow, this sure is a good piece of meat! I’m glad I have this meat! Thank you for being on my plate, meat!” instead of “you can be on my plate if you want, I guess, but I also have these other pieces of meat that I could be eating so whatever. If you want to. I guess.” Why is it that when someone treats us like we’re disposable, our instinct is to try and prove otherwise instead of saying “you know what, fuck you and your deli menu” and walking away?
I, for one, have always that you were more than just a piece of meat!
This made me sad because that’s exactly what I let happen. Except in my case I wasn’t a piece of meat, I was the stabilizing sourdough roll holding it all together–despite rotten rotting ingredients. I have relinquished to rot and am starting from nothing in order to slowly build back up to be ready and confident for a better, way more delicious sandwich. You can do it too! It takes some self-control (so hard!) and willingness to be lonely/alone and without sandwich for an indeterminate amount of time–is my take on it. Recalibrate your sandwich standards.
Oh, being alone is hard. 🙁 Especially when you have gone sandwich-less for most of your life and then someone came along like “hey, I have a sandwich for you! Just jump high enough and you can grab it!” and then you jump and you jump and you realize that you can’t possibly jump high enough but you can’t stop jumping because what if no one ever offers you a sandwich again.
Sometimes we get too tired to keep jumping. People offer sandwiches when the time is right, it’ll happen again. To digress, after I stopped jumping and the ingredients withered away, I tried to fill the void with online dating and realized I am completely fed up with that. Frivolous first dates are not fun right now. *I remember in the early 2000s when meeting new people to date was exciting and took time and effort and I’m going back to that* (tongue-in-cheek) Old & bitter is an acquired taste right?
My sandwich is a guy and I just need to stop because he is not that great but I guess I also need attention
and he’s not even good for that, I’m realizing! I respond very well to shallow praise and he doesn’t even give me that. What are you good for if you won’t tell me I’m smart and pretty!
If you don’t like what you are eating, stop. Order something different. The menu is huge and customizable.
also you are smart and pretty. And self-aware
You and I are in precisely the same boat, my friend! Perhaps we should both take to the sea.
I was thinking this JUST THIS MORNING like, maybe I don’t even like this person I just want them to like me because that proves something to my ego, which, ugh, isn’t a nice thing to realise about oneself.
…But then maybe I do like this person. This person is my sandwich.
The sandwich of indifference spread with the mayonnaise of imagined possibilities and the lettuce of withheld affection. 🙁
This does not sound like a sandwich I would eat.
Can I please get the sandwich with the delicious dijon mustard of someone who just thinks I’m frickin’ awesome? And maybe the chicken curry salad of mad attraction and affirmation as well. That would be nice.
The wholegrain bread of support! The egg salad of mutual enjoyment and pleasure in each other’s company!
And the kosher dill pickle spear on the side of a cute cute doggie that I can pet and snuggle while I’m over there!
That’s not what you thought I was gonna say was it.
This was my life for like 10 years? Or since 5th grade probably.
my sandwich is trying to find the pithy arrangement of words, that, when posted on twitter, will change thousands of minds and stop all this shit from happening.
I’ve tried “uuuuugggghhhhh” and it’s not working.
Try “feeeeuuuuuggghhhhhhhh” and report back.
My sandwich is procrastination. And this week it’s been particularly difficult not to eat it.
SAME
SAAAAAME
THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING RIGHT NOW!
My sandwich is constantly clicking on the links one of my old college professors posts on Facebook that are all hugely depressing articles about racism/sexism/homophobia/transphobia/human rights violations/gun violence/etc. and then falling into a bad news spiral and ruining my own day.
The worst thing about this one is that creepy Facebook algorithms know that I always click those things and so more and more of them show up in my newsfeed as time goes by.
I literally had to quit a journalism job because an editor would only pull stories like this from the AP wire. It’s a bad sandwich!
Oh dear, are you my former student? Apologies.
can your sandwich be like your own heart and you just keep gnawing and gnawing on it because you resent its attempts to be happy
I think Stephen Crane says, yes: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/175754
well there is a way in which THAT is good news
My sandwich is staying up way too late at night for no good goddamn reason.
I think we all have that sandwich
Do you also accompany this refuse-to-go-to-bed sandwich with a side of sullenly falling asleep on the couch with your neck sideways and then startling awake when something on the TV bangs? Because I do.
>.>
I too am nibbling relentlessly on this sandwich.
The sandwich of Buzzfeed quizzes and fanfic.
It is just past midnight where I am…
My sandwich is self-indulgent worrying. The past few months have been full of mid-sized disasters which have seemed to occur whenever things were going fairly well (my dog died very suddenly while I was traveling with friends, a family member had a relapse of their illness the same week that I finished my degree, my grandmother became quite ill on the day I found out that I was being considered for a new job) and for some reason my Stupid Useless Brain has decided that being even remotely happy is not okay because it will automatically cause Bad Things to happen. I can’t enjoy any of the positive things that are happening to me because I’m too scared of what horrible thing might happen if I do.
I have had many periods of my life like this. I don’t have much to offer, because brains are wired to see connections and learn from them. But maybe try thinking in the other direction–not something good happened to you, but then [as a result] something bad happened to someone you care for, but rather, something bad happened to someone you care for, which is awful, but something good also happened, so the world is balancing itself out?
I had a few years of that, and I’m sorry because it *sucks*. But I am here to tell you that the good and the bad happen, and they are not connected, they are just Things That Are and the rest is your brainweasels effing with you. It was really hard, and I still have occasional brainweasel moments about it; but I applied the bejesus out of my anxiety coping skills, and the time did come when I felt better about the good things and wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop all the time. I hope things lighten for you soon.
my sandwich is trying to discuss family issues with my borderline parents and sister instead of ignoring problems like they all do.
Every time I say, “Can we talk about this?” they all scream at me for starting fights and ruining their lives.
My sandwich is my Library job that started as a dream job &, over 4 years, devolved into one with Mean Girl-esque cliques and blatant favoritism, of the “crying in my car at lunch”, “fantasizing about getting fired and at least getting severance” levels of awfulness. I finally decided the universe was telling me to stop eating said sandwich when my mother-in-law passed away suddenly last month, leaving me essentially without childcare this summer, so happily I’ve been re accepted at my old school and will be going back to get MLIS, so I can get a “real” library job (pro-tip, these don’t exist, but it will make me feel better as I work at Barnes and Noble until I expire)! I would have kept eating it though, because I’m of the sort that almost proudly describes herself as “not knowing where the line between loyalty and stupidity lies”, so thank you horrible, random death of a loved one?
I get that. I love being a librarian, but I’ve been reflecting on how fucked up many of my past jobs were, not just in the sense of having one or two dysfunctional people (those, I figure, are inescapable), but people who were in positions of real power and messed things up beyond repair. I managed to outlast the last toxic manager, though, and am slowly getting over it.
AAAAHH, I just did it. I sent in my resignation to the Director, and posted publicly about it on Facebook, there’s no going back! Now I just have the sandwiches of hating to clean, but also hating having a messy house and a compulsive shopping habit.
Congratulations! Think how great your summer’s going to be!
Congrats!
I don’t know if this is true for your library system, but in mine, we not only have various…not so talented…management individuals, but we’re also blowing through them like Kleenex.
The one I’m in right now hired people from within our library to replace the last and most toxic one, both of whom had prior management experience, unlike Toxie. The first left because he was overdue for retirement; the second looks like she’ll be around for a while, which is fine by me.
My sandwich is this sinus thing that has been bothering me since November. Regular antibiotics/steroids haven’t helped, my ENT doc thinks it’s facial migraines, and I got a CT scan on Monday that I haven’t heard the results from yet. My chips on the side are searching my symptoms on WebMD and concluding I have cancer.
I’ve had a sinus thing for five weeks and it’s also involved laryngitis and a double ear infection and I’m going in tomorrow to bully my way into a strep culture because WHAT IS GOING ON. I basically put the kids to bed and then go to bed and can’t not be tired.
Aaaargh WebMD. *Worst.*
I have migraines that tend to start in my sinuses and work upwards into my head if I don’t stop them early. I only just a couple months ago figured out that they’re triggered by barometric pressure. I have been getting them for OVER TEN YEARS. If they are that, I am very sorry, but I hope you find answers faster than I did.
I still get them, but at least now I can scope out the weather for the week and be like “Oh, that’ll be a rough day, better make sure I have Excedrin with me and/or get most of my work done the day before!” and it helps.
are you me?
My sandwich is trying to go to work, then beating myself up for not going to work, when I actually have serious bronchitis.
(It’s just a cold! You can work through a cold! *spends ten minutes coughing, gets chest pain from coughing, literally cannot speak* “Yeah sure I should be fine for the weekend shifts”)
Also I’ve had banana cake for breakfast for the last four days but fuck it I’m ill.
I’m always here for you on team Use Desserts as Medicine!
It’s got fruit in it it’s healthy!
My theory is that my body is using extra energy to make me better, so it needs extra fuel in the form of sugar and fat. (Plus sometimes when I’m sick literally the only thing that makes me feel better is a nice decadent meal, and I’m not going to deprive myself of that just because I’m “an adult” or whatever)
I like your theory. I tend to bake/make sweets when I’m miserable so I also have a whole batch of home made toffee to get through (I made it with honey it’s healthy?)
When I’m sick I want pizza and only pizza.
I went to school with (undiagnosed) bronchitis once, thinking it was just a cold and I could work through it. It was a terrible error.
It extra stupid because I work in a cafe so OF COURSE I should not be going in and getting germs everywhere, people are EATING yet I still feel guilty
This is such a cliche, but I think the sandwich is talking to my mother.
This was mine. It caused me nothing but pain! Every time! I kept thinking the filling would be comforting, warm mother-love but it was always just cold grief. With mayo.
Yeah. I’m going through some pregnancy complications, and it’s making me want so badly to believe that talking to her will help, but all it does is open me up to more boundary stomping.
My sandwich is the rage/anxiety/numbness cycle I am reproducing with the avoidance/Internet/beer cycle.
Wtf self, your sandwich is obviously toxic. Make a different damn sandwich–this is not the only sandwich there is.
My current sandwich is that I have blisters on my toes after not wearing shoes for a week. I have left the house… once, I think, wearing very regular and worn-in shoes, and three days later I have blisters? What are my feet thinking?
OH TOASTIES, my current sandwich is fantasizing about a particular house in a suburb I love with a big backyard I can terrace myself with an earthship retaining wall and have chickens and rabbits and a veg garden in the top half and beautiful grass and a hills hoist and a fire pit and a barbecue in the bottom half and espaliered fruit trees along the side and a salvaged-window greenhouse in front for tomatoes and chiles and beds full of silverbeet and rainbow chard along the front walk instead of flowers oh nooooooo I can’t stop thinking about it please send help please
Why stop thinking about it? It sounds like the perfect daydream fantasy escape! *I’m* going to start thinking about it now.
It’s messing up my ability to appreciate my REAL life though! My little apartment just cannot compete.
(THIS HOUSE IS NORTH FACING AND HAS A LOUNGE ROOM FLOODED WITH LIGHT AND A POTTING SHED AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GARDEN AND A BEAUTIFUL PICKET FENCE ALONG THE FRONT WALK AND DRIVEWAY UGGGHHHH WHYYYYYY)
Except for the picket fence, you could be describing a house I often see and lust over in a nearby city.
My sandwich this week is bad meta about tv shows; I can’t stop reading it! I’ve done such a good job of tailoring my Twitter and tumblr so that I don’t see these things that make my blood pressure rise, and then I go out of my way to seek it out anyway! Why?!?
I think deep down I’m searching for that one piece of meta that manages to say everything I’m thinking, but in the mean time I find (and read) everything else. And even when I find good commentary a lot of it is coated in the very black and white tone of “anyone who disagrees with this in any way is a piece of garbage and should go live in a dumpster” and so I get angry anyway!
Why can’t I stop???
I used to do this! I had a couple of tumblr blogs that I hate-read on a regular basis because apparently I like being angry? I had to force myself to quit cold-turkey and it has worked for awhile but I’ve been feeling the urge to seek out stuff recently because of things that started happening and I wanted to fight with jerks in fandom.
I’m not watching the video, but the answer is “because I have a migraine, and eating somehow helps with that.”
This comments thread has reminded me I need to go out & buy a crèche of Cadbury eggs to get me through the long months ahead.
I like to gamble with the supply, and wait til the after-Easter clearance to stock up. But sometimes they are gone, and indeed it is a long lonely time until they come back…
Yeah, same, but I want to make sure I have at least a few in case this is the darkest Cadbury timeline.
Mine is constantly, unsuccessfully attempting to push down gnawing anxiety instead of getting on the damn phone and making a call I dread. I keep telling myself I don’t want to know yet if my parents say they cannot accept my kid’s gender identity and that it’s better to wait until some magical future day that will definitely be better than today. But clearly I am miserable waiting so I might as well rip the bandaid off and get on with dealing with whatever fallout may occur instead of torturing myself imagining said fallout.
Wishing you so much love and good energy through this process. It sounds so scary! But this internet stranger is cheering you on!
Thank you! It means a lot.
I’m going to do it tomorrow while my kids are at school. They live far away so I can’t have an in-person convo. I also can’t book tickets for my family to a big important extended family thing that’s coming up until my parents assure me that they will treat my son with respect and not misgender him while we’re there. So the conversation can’t wait forever, but I already know my mom disapproves of how I am handling things so far and I don’t anticipate it being an affirming conversation.
That sounds like a tough row to hoe. But! The good thing about phone calls is that you can write down what you want to say beforehand, and if the conversation goes too far off the rails, you can say “Ok, I need to go now” and then go and immediately sit down on the couch with a nice drink instead of having to dig around for money or wait for the tab or get in your car and try to drive while upset.
Best of luck, and here’s one more internet stranger sending good vibes.
Thanks! It is true that it’s easier to keep composure and control when on the phone. And I’m happy it means I won’t have to see any facial expressions I may find difficult. That should help.
Also sending strength and good thoughts to you and your kid, who is fortunate in their mom.
Thank you! School has been fine for him which is really wonderful. I have so many good feels about the next generation based on my son’s awesome friends and the general atmosphere of “whatever, that’s cool I guess” that his peers seem to have about gender and sexuality differences.
Dave: You actually dyed you hair grey to convince me to bring back the sandwich machine?
Bill: Yes, I did! Now do you understand how important this is to me?
Dave: Only if you dyed all your hair grey to match.
Bill: I did!
Aside from classic Newsradio quotes, my sandwich this week is that Documentary Now! is streaming on Netflix as of today.
This is exciting news (re: Documentary Now!)!
My sandwich is telling my boyfriend I love him, because I do, and he clearly does, but neither of us have said it yet, and it’s been 9 months and family visits and it’s just time to do it, but I am a coward who keeps waiting for a “perfect” opening which is obviously not going to happen.
Aw for some reason this really reminded me of when I was trying to tell my now-husband that I loved him for the first time. What ended up coming out of my mouth was “You know I’m in love with you, right?” In retrospect it sounds like something out of a Nora Ephron movie but that was my clumsy way of avoiding the actual phrase “I love you.”
While approaching my period a few weeks ago, on a particularly emotional evening, I narrowly avoided the “DO YOU LOVE ME?!?” so I’m at least winning there.
Can’t do worse than I did. He told me, and then I had to spend 2 months coming to terms with it because, yay! Past abuse means I am afraid of all romantic emotions! It ended up just slipping out instead of “good night” as I was falling asleep.
I actually have a suggestion for this situation that worked for me: set aside an evening and do the 36 Questions. I was a little bit skeptical, but it does create literally the perfect mood.
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/11/fashion/modern-…
Now I can also obsess over trying to find a way to suggest that that isn’t “Hey, lets do the 36 questions to fall in love! Which we obviously already are! Aren’t we? Do you want wine? I want wine.”
Once you start it’s a slippery slope…I can’t stop telling him
Three years. Three years my boyfriend and I have been together and he hasn’t said I love you. Now, he speaks volumes through actions, but those three words have caused an awful lot of complication in our relationship. By complication I mean fights and therapy. I started both.
Hang in there with your sandwich. it’s going to be ok.
My “love language” (a term I hate but a concept I embrace) is definitely acts of service but “Here, honey, I brought you a Brita pitcher that you’ve been talking about needing for months so that should assure you of all my feelings for you!” isn’t the most romantic gesture.
Replace ‘sandwhich’ with ‘Chick Fil A frosted lemonade’ and this is my life.
The sandwich is my money. Homer is my shitty, shitty car. UGH.
My sandwich is poutine. Shocking, I know.
My sandwich is a wealthy man who smells amazing and makes me hate myself.
My sandwich is my relationship which has stalled and got a HUGE red flag last week that it will not get better. Either he or I need to break it off and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have the guts to do it.
I tried to put it down this week and schedule an expensive dentist appointment, but got no reply and when I walked past the office it was “closed for Spring Break!” Secretly glad, but it means living with all that delicious expired lunch meat until next week at the earliest, and you know I’m gonna eat some.
My sandwich is my constant self loathing. It tastes like road salt and olives.
I am willing to trade it for a nice ham and cheese.
Love to you. That’s a tough one.
Self-sabotage! I hate my job and it’s past time for me to get another one. So why do I talk myself out of applying for jobs and then make myself seem less awesome in interviews than I actually am? Fear and self-loathing lolololololol
I already had the sandwich, because I lack even the basic modicum of self control. The comment here is reading terrible, non-Toast internet comments, while staying up way past my bed time.
Now if you excuse me, can’t talk, coming down.
Pouring candy into my face as I continue working at a job that is ok, for a boss who keeps me right on my toes with worry about random yelling / personal attacks, thus tanking my self-esteem and ratcheting up my anxiety to unmaintainable levels. Oooh, I should really get a new sandwich / job.
My sandwich is worry. Worry worry worry worry worry.
Can I have a worry sandwich with a side of worry? And maybe a large iced worry to drink? Thanks.
Sometimes I think the sandwich is basically my whole life.
My sandwich is a personnel situation at work, but either the sandwich has gotten less toxic or I have developed some immunity to it. Possibly both. In any case, the sandwich has improved somewhat relative to earlier in the year. (Also helping: the sandwich has been moved from its earlier location in a filthy sauna and is now being stored in a cool basement. Hopes are high that we will be able to move it to a freezer soon. Metaphorically.)
ETA: On a related topic, has anyone made a body pillow shaped like an enormous hoagie? Because I would buy/snuggle the heck out of that.
Don’t, you’ll wake up one morning and it’ll be gone.
My sandwich is finding out what my toxic ex-friend is up to, even though I know the answer will fill me with rage at the fact that she continues to be toxic and that a) I didn’t figure it out for eight years and b) I can do nothing to change other people. I am completely powerless to do anything about it NOM NOM NOM SANDWICH SO BAD-GOOD.
My sandwich is reading advice columns and stressful parts of the internet even though I know it’ll just make me more scared of social interaction.
Also, periodically deciding that actually probably everyone feels this anxious, sad and tired all the time, and I should just suck it up. The tasty sandwich of internalised ableism. >_>
My sandwich is the giant sinkhole in my backyard. I believe that if I keep digging I will reach the motherlode of rotting timber and construction debris that created it, but I am literally in over my head now.
My sandwich is continuing to say yes to costuming projects even though I swore this is the year I’ll establish a good work-life balance.
You and me both, cool person. Because after costuming whole groups for the Ren Faire for three years now, I still have not learned. (In my defense, though, we look so damn awesome and get so many compliments, I always forget how much the lead-up sucks).
My sandwich is avoiding doing the thing that I have always wanted to do because I’m afraid of closing off options that I do not even want to take. Because what if I do it and I’m happy?? What then????
Oh my gosh, yes.
Ghomeshi.
Sabotaging my own happiness rather than admitting that perhaps my anxiety got out of control. (“Clearly the thing that makes me happy is what makes me feel anxious! I’ll stop that, and then take on too much work to avoid feeling my feelings!”)
Currently in the process of throwing said sandwich in garbage, working to make things better. Still periodically taking sandwich from garbage and gnawing on it.
You mean continuing to date a SO with such a fundamentally different view of love and life isn’t a healthy choice?
Facebook.
And spider solitaire. But mostly Facebook. It is so bad for me and I just keep doing it and expecting different results than time-wasting and self-loathing and a fat ass.
Yes! FB and that Spider on 4 suits….
My sandwich is the act of pretending to like Howard Stern so my coworkers think I’m “Fun.”
My ex’s twitter feed: “i don’t get why people are upset that I’m not a feminist” or “we should respect the people that vote for Donald Trump” it is a horror and yet I keep on eating it for god knows why
Right now it feels like my sandwich is “remaining alive.”
I’ve been told that if I eat enough of the sandwich it will become fresh and delicious again, somehow, so I’m going to keep gnawing on it and hope that I haven’t been misinformed.
I truly believe it will be delicious for you again! Keep gnawing, please.
You’re not alone. Keep reaching out and ask for help. We all need help to go on. You’re not supposed to do everything by yourself.
Keep eating; I have been exactly where you are and the sandwich does get better. Sometimes it's just ok–but usually when you are least expecting it, it becomes really fresh and delicious. Hang in there
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