Taco, and trouble [Monday 16]

Commute yesterday was remarkably short -- less than 40 minutes. We ran to the bus that got to the stop just as we got there, and then it took fifteen minutes to get to Sullivan. At Sullivan, caught the Orange line just at it stopped, and so on and so forth. It's such a pleasure when the commute estimates that Google shows turn out to be accurate.

Had my regular oat breakfast, but added granola and extra nuts to it. I've seen those granola bar packets from trader joe's at many people's, and I find them pretty good. I've been told by several people that they're far, faar too sweet. That may be, but you aren't supposed to eat them just like that, you're supposed to use them sweeten things. My oats don't need any added sugar because I get it all from the granola, and it's worked out perfectly for me.

For lunch, the team decided to make a 20-minute walking trip to go to the Taco Bell in downtown crossing which opened less than a week ago. I'm always down for a good taco trip, so i signed up. When we were there the lines scared everyone off but me, and off they went to the Chicken and Rice guys. I stuck around, because it was going be a 40-minute walking trip, and if I'd made it that far, I might as well complete the pilgrimage. The ordering took maybe 10 minutes, and then 20 minutes to receive my order. If you're smart about such things, you can cut the line by using the automated terminals, which very few people were using. I felt like an idiot because why didn't i think of that.

I met my Tufts friend A. (not the one from the previous posts) with her coworkers waiting for their orders. They had spent a good part of an hour waiting for food, and were considering abandoning their food if it didn't get out on time. Fortunately for them, the wait was only a couple of more minutes before their orders were complete, and they were done with their TacoBell pilgrimage. The lines had gotten considerably shorter by then, and there were people who had ordered much, muuch after me who were getting their orders because they used terminal. Oh well. I got my order after a few minutes beyond the 20-minute mark, and Bob Portland (it's actually Robert Fromme Portlande and it's french) took the train back to work because the trip had gone for a bit too long. On the way I practiced how I would pronounce my fakename in French in case anyone asked, and how I'd go about pretending I couldn't speak french anymore for some bs reason or another.

I got the doritos locos taco supreme and the chalupa. They were...ok, and I maybe over my love for tacobell in a sober state. So very bland. There was no stomach troubles caused by the cheese, so that was great.

Back home after work [the commute took an hour because the bus took forever too come], I made an unreal, gross concoction of sauteed enoki mushrooms with way too much oil. Added cheese and sunny-side-up eggs to make it good, and then a little lemon to cut the fattiness. I had to force myself to eat the last couple of spoonfulls even with rice because it was just...so...much. Tended my oyster mushroom, tended my digestive system, did laundry, and that was my day. Didn't get to write much fiction last night because I wasn't feeling very well, but I'm thinking I can do that this evening, or even later this morning.