"I Knew I Shouldn't Have Eaten That Packet Of Powdered Gravy I Found In The Parking Lot!"

The other day I came home for lunch, and I was a-starvin'. I also wasn't a-findin' much in the way of food, either. Since I only have a half hour for lunch, and about seven minutes of that is taken up in the commute from work to home and back, I have to make something quick and easy, which is also how I likes my ladies...just kidding. Sy is anything but easy.

I came home with plans for making a sammich, but we were out of bread. I opened the fridge and the freezer, but nothing caught my fancy. I went into the pantry and hemmed and hawwed and hemmed some more for a couple minutes...finally I decided that I had to pick something, anything, or else do without nutrition for the balance of the work day. So I grabbed some ramen noodles, chili flavored, which was the only flavor we had at the time. (We choose Maruchan noodles, as they are the best...anyone disagree? I hope so, I'd love to have a big, ugly debate in the comments, with lots of personal attacks and questioning of other sexual orientation and stuff)

As I was nuking my noodles (good band name), I remembered that the day before I had seen a packet of the chicken flavored powder (which is, I assume, mostly made up of salt, chicken bits, and factory sweepings). JD went through a period a while ago where he would eat the noodles plain, without adding the flavor packet, and he would just stick them in a drawer in the kitchen, so we've got a few of them lying around. I dug around a few seconds and found it, and I dumped it in my noodles, along with the chili packet, and had some gourmet chili-chicken ramen for lunch. Now that's good eats!

It hit me a couple hours later, this wrenching churning in my stomach. How old was that chicken packet? I wondered, in my intermittent lucid moments. It felt like there were two or three good sized rocks shifting around in my guts; most uncomfortable. Thank Allah, it passed in a fairly short amount of time, and I wasn't violently ill, and I regret to say that it probably won't be the last time I wonder, How old was that chicken packet, anyway?