Sometimes, while I’m writing copy for my internship, food comes up. Actually, this is quite frequently since our business centers around feeding people.
Today I started eating lunch at 10:45 and tried to stretch it out until 12:30. So by the time 3:00 rolled around, my body was running on fumes. I was writing about pizza around 2:00, thinking about pizza, wishing I had pizza. So I texted my sister, requesting a date night with her (who else would you go on a date with?). I used lots of question marks so that she would know the urgency of my request for pizza.
It’s beautiful, this spontaneous pizza.
When you plan something three hours in advance, you barely have time to form expectations. You just go, and when you get there, you’re happy with whatever comes out of it. For Brooke and me, it was half Hawaiian, half half-Hawaiian pizza (aka, half with Canadian bacon AND pineapple, half with just the fruity goodness) and salad. And water, because we’re those people who rarely get drinks at restaurants.
We talked about faith and life and my new friend and her work and my work and what we think about things and how good that pizza was… mmm, so good.
It hit the spot in more ways than one. It filled our need for spending time together (funny how you can live in the same house but lead separate lives when you have different jobs and friends and churches), filled our tummies, filled our need for conversation with someone who gets you, and filled our lunch boxes for tomorrow.