After working for two hours straight on an Honors project worth a substantial slice of your grade, your tummy rumbles. “Just another paragraph before I get some dinner,” you say to yourself, but your stomach insists. You click “Save” on your Word document at least twenty times before clam-shelling your laptop and walking to the fridge. A solitary incandescent bulb illuminates half an onion, ketchup, and a cheese stick once you open the door. You close it, check your pantry as a diversion, and come back to the fridge, half-expecting a magical grocery elf to summon a three course meal, but that sad trio greets you once again. “Perkins it is then,” you think to yourself, though this is the 10th time this week you’ve ordered out.
