Telling yourself the salad bar counts as “health.”
TELLING YOURSELF THE SALAD BAR COUNTS AS “HEALTH.”
FOLLOW US FOR MORE CHRONICLES FROM THE DINING HALLS OF DISTINCTION.
Remember those days? The endless papers, the all-nighters fueled by questionable coffee, and the constant internal debate about nutrition. We all walked into the dining hall with the best intentions, didn't we? A vibrant, leafy green canvas awaited, promising wellness amidst the academic chaos. And then, reality hit.
The generous dollop of ranch, the croutons, perhaps a scoop of pasta salad from the 'cold bar' section that somehow migrated to the 'salad' category in our minds. Maybe even a few chicken tenders, cleverly disguised as "protein" for our "balanced" meal. Because, let's be honest, that deep dive into philosophical texts or quantum physics really burns calories, right?
It wasn't just about the food; it was about the ritual. The brief respite from the library, the impromptu strategy meetings with study groups, the gossip sessions over a carefully curated plate of "health." For many of us, the salad bar was a flexible friend, a forgiving confessor to our dietary sins. It allowed us to feel virtuous, even as we eyed the dessert station.
Whether you're currently navigating the labyrinth of academia or reminiscing about your collegiate days, that shared experience of the dining hall, and particularly the self-deception at the salad bar, is a common thread. It's a testament to our enduring optimism and our unique ability to justify almost anything in the pursuit of knowledge... and a decent meal. What were your salad bar confessions?
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