Grieving a sandwich

18 Aug

There is no greater disappointment than finishing a sandwich before you’re ready.

You know the scenario: it’s lunchtime. You sit down and open your lunch box (or takeout bag, however you roll). You take out the sandwich you’ve been thinking about since you made it last night or right before you left that morning:

Just your regular standard lunch

You unwrap it and take that first savory, delectable bite. You chew, relishing in the perfect combination of condiments, lunch meat and/or cheese and lettuce, tomato, pickle or whatever else you used to lovingly adorn your sandwich. You pause to sample some chips, fruit, drink. You return to your sandwich. This process repeats until you look down at your sandwich and

Reduced to crumbs

 oh, sh*t. There’s nothing left. How the f*ck did that happen?!

The 5 stages of grief set in:

  1. Denial–No, the sandwich isn’t finished. There’s more around here…somewhere…
  2. Anger–Son of a bitch! This sucks! Why is my sandwich finished? Who finished my sandwich? I wasn’t ready for no more sandwich!
  3. Bargaining–Ok, if I can just find one more bite of this sandwich, I promise I won’t spend any time on Mental Floss and actually do my work this afternoon.
  4. Depression–It’s gone. There’s no more sandwich. Might as well finish those chips now. But what’s the point?
  5. Acceptance–I guess the sandwich really is gone. It was a great sandwich, though. 

It’s only after acceptance has set in can you truly appreciate the memory of the sandwich. You stop and reflect on the good times you had with the sandwich. You forgive yourself for finishing your lunchtime masterpiece. You rationalize that the sandwich wanted to be eaten. That was its job; it needed to be eaten in order to be fulfilled. You turn your thoughts to your drink and chips. You remember that they’re tasty, too. So you eat them. And then, as you take that final sip of soda and that last bite of chip, you remember–you get to do it all again tomorrow!

The Empty Kitchen’s Favorite Cheese Sandwich (created by me, assembled by Wawa)


  • 4″ sub roll
  • combo white American and pepper jack cheese
  • spicy mustard
  • lettuce
  • tomato
  • pickles
  • sweet peppers


  1. Drive to Wawa
  2. Order sandwich on super fun touch screen
  3. Pay for sandwich

9 Responses to “Grieving a sandwich”

  1. red_wagon August 19, 2010 at 8:46 am #

    This happens to me ALL the time!! Except for me it’s my creamy tomato soup/brie combo. It always disappears way to fast, and I seriously grieve. And now I’ve decided to give up the dish until after my wedding (too much sodium) and it’s just so sad…

    • theemptykitchen August 24, 2010 at 8:47 am #

      you do not need to give it up! after you drink it, have a glass of hot lemon water. for some reason, that helps with the bloat.

  2. stephb August 20, 2010 at 10:49 am #

    i love wawa cheese hoagies…i do american, provolone, lettuce, tomato, mayo and pepper and oregano. 🙂

    • theemptykitchen August 23, 2010 at 7:54 am #

      you had me until oregano. i don’t know what it is about that spice but i just don’t like it. i can’t stomach it on anything.

  3. The Great Mama Experiment August 20, 2010 at 1:01 pm #


    Oh, I SO get that! Thank you for that laugh!

  4. Janna's Keeping it Real! August 22, 2010 at 8:45 pm #

    this is hilarious! i feel the same way with sandwiches, and most of my lunches! i take such time creating this tasty food, only to finish it a matter of minutes! such a disgrace!

    • theemptykitchen August 23, 2010 at 8:43 am #

      it is a disgrace! i try to convince myself that i don’t really eat that fast and that it was a really small sandwich. rationalizing is key.


  1. Renovation in progress! « The Empty Kitchen - March 30, 2011

    […] Grieving a sandwich […]

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