You won’t like me when I’m hungry AND angry.
When getting a meal involves any sort of line.
Whether it is a buffet, an office lunch, or a Chipotle, this is particularly tortuous because you get to see the thing you want more than anything -- food, so beautiful, so close -- and you also have to see other assholes -- assholes, stupid, stupid assholes -- get to it before you. But unless the line is around the building, or there are old people in it, this usually passes quickly.
When you're cooking something, and it's supposed to be done, but you look at it and it really needs 30 more minutes.
Finding out that the cooking time for a recipe is actually a stew of lies is a terrible thing, but at the very least your pain and suffering will eventually be rewarded.
But yeah, for the moment, fuck this thing you're cooking/your crappy oven, they're both being dicks.
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4:00 p.m., while at work.
Unless you have access to a snack, you are capable of profound and terrible things in this horrible dead zone between lunch and dinner. This is the time when it is also too late to go for another coffee break, only compounding your hanger.
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When you open the fridge, and realize that you left last night's restaurant leftovers in your car/at the restaurant.
There is no food on earth you crave more and with more self-hatred than the food you could have had if you hadn't forgotten all about it.
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