Since I’ve moved to the east side, I’ve made a more conscious effort to cook at home. I’ve been very responsible about buying groceries, attempting to learn recipes, and actually making food. Lately however, I’ve been slacking on the cooking thing – mostly because of a hectic schedule, consistent 10-hour work days, and the lack of emotional desire to do anything. Therefore, I’ve grown to possess a small addiction to Subway.
I spent a summer working at Subway in 2005. It was a shitty part-time job where I could get free food and work some extra daytime hours opposite running the bar in the evening. It was far from a glory job, but for food service, it was pretty damn easy. I got very good at making sandwiches and concocting my own little menu of sandwiches to take home at the end of the day. It was a pretty good deal overall. I don’t miss coming home smelling like bread, but I do miss my 420 friendly boss toking up in the cooler and then munching down on a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies with him. Life really was simpler then.