Sadness Pizza

This year, I discovered the virtues of ordering food online — fast, simple, saved debit card number, not having to put on real pants in an effort to pick up food. So far I’ve mostly stuck to Dominos and Jimmy John’s, though I may branch out to Chinese or sushi. Anyways, one great thing about ordering online is that your orders can be saved and, on Domino’s website anyways, named. Which, let me tell you, can be a real time saver.

My usual order consists of a medium hand-tossed 2-topping of bacon and pineapple, maybe onion and green pepper if I’m feeling veggies. Paired with a 2 liter of Diet Coke, this order is under the name “Sadness Pizza.” Image

Why Sadness Pizza? Because this is the pizza ordered on Friday nights spent before my laptop streaming Breakfast at Tiffany’s (I actually have not finished this movie, but I can already tell Roman Holiday is far superior). This is the pizza I reach for on Wednesday around 1:30 because I’m stressed, goddamn it,  and bacon would be really great right now and I have a coupon. This is the pizza I crave when I’m living with my parents for the winter break, but can only order an inferior version of because the nearest Domino’s is 45 minutes away and Pizza Hut has a monopoly on American-Italian cuisine in my small hometown.

Basically, it’s a pizza I order when I am feeling less-than-awesome. And at the moment, I am highly tempted to order my second of the week (the first being ordered over an app I downloaded while driving back to college from St. Louis on Saturday night, starving after nearly 10 hours without food except some sour Skittles, which, let’s face it, aren’t really a “food” per say, as they are brightly colored waxy dipped in sour sugar) because things are going less-than-awesome at the moment.

Aside from a very disappoint HIMYM finale and a trip to urgent care following some weird chest-y stuff, I lost someone this week. They were beloved and wonderful and kind and generous and loving and so many other adjectives. I’m miles from my family, heart breaking for them, and dying for something to just feel normal. There isn’t really anyone in my life right now I can talk to….A pizza is sure as hell not going to fix this. But it probably wouldn’t hurt.


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