If you’re reconciled to the fact that you’ll need to work your entire life, then you’ve undoubtedly acquired a few valuable survival skills. One that I’ve long relied on is a very narrow definition of lunch. On the first day at my first real job, I went outside and ate lunch in my truck. Being the first day and all, I didn’t want to wander into the common lunch area and be spotted as the new guy. I didn’t want to watch strangers eat and they for damn sure couldn’t handle watching me. I’ve done the same thing since, every single day of my working life.

I don’t understand the concept of the company cafeteria. Lunch is supposed to be a break, right? Well, if you slide into a cafeteria booth next to Shirley from accounting, that’s not a break. Even if she talked to you about something other than your timecard it would still be Shirley from accounting, and if you have to look at her then you’re on the clock.

What about the so-called working lunch? Ever get invited to a lunch meeting? What a fuckin’ rip-off. First, you have to eat whatever’s been delivered, and let me tell you, it can be rough. I think employers mostly contract out to procure food items from local hospitals. Disgusting. Nine times out of ten it’s sweaty sandwiches with freaky condiments and that super-green lettuce that average restaurants use as a garnish. Anyway, you sit there hoping no one will notice you’re not eating, staring at the PowerPoint, and finally, maybe around 1:30, the meeting ends. People stand up and seem to be headed back to their desks and I’m thinking, “Oh no, no way! That wasn’t lunch! THAT WASN’T LUNCH!” You can’t just schedule a meeting for noon, serve people prison food and then confiscate their lunch break.

Companies are big on team-building. I’m big on sanity building, so I get the fuck out of the office at least once a day. While you’re at work just try to keep your head down. Be friendly, but not overly so, shit, these people aren’t your friends, you just work with them. Do everything you can to convince them you’re on their side, that you’re one of them, but keep your real thoughts and the brain that generates them in the glove box of your truck – visit it once a day to make sure it’s still there.