62% of American office workers usually eat their lunch in the same spot they work all day. Is this true? I have no idea. But that’s what the creators of the Tumblr Sad Desk Lunch say, so I believe them.

Sad Desk Lunch chronicles those wax paper-wrapped, Tupperware-contained moments of midday depression-mitigation collectively known as lunch.

What makes these so depressing are those little bits of personality, desperately added to keep morale from flagging, to remind the lunch-packer that he or she is a person with preferences and needs and feelings and not just the occupant of a chair, facing a computer, so easily replaceable, so entirely unloved — a slice of lemon.

Remember last night when this was a meal ordered and shared  with friends? Now it is the boxed remains of a memory that there is life beyond this desk. It is the carcass of a smile.

Only enough time in the day to pop open a bag and eat enough to not die.

Clinging to order in a world where you don’t get to make the decisions. Doodling birds without pausing to consider why. A child’s lunchbox on an adult’s desk. Every food in its own package. Sequestered.

Little boxes. Water. Air-tight. Lunch.

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