I love sandwiches, but I hate university. Maybe if faculties were sandwiches, I wouldn’t cry in SUB while eating my Subway every day.
PB&J on Wonder Bread with the crusts cut off. Your course load is “too heavy” to make your own lunch, so mother superior did it for you.
It’s just a normal ham and cheese sandwich, but you grew the meat in a petri dish. Wins Nobel Prize in Sandwiches.
Get up at 5 a.m. to gather ingredients: milk cows, harvest wheat, feed chickens. Oh shit, severe drought hits. Go hungry this year ¯\__/¯
6000 word philosophy paper titled “Is a hotdog a sandwich?”
Order aged Wagyu beef white truffle steak sandwich for your student group’s networking event. Max out credit card. Call daddy for more money. Problem solved.
Microwaved egg whites on a Wasa cracker with turkey bacon. Forgets Lululemon lunch bag on the bus. Fuck it, goes to McDonald’s.
Two bland-ass chicken breasts instead of bread. Frozen broccoli in between. Takes 11 hours to meal prep on Sunday.
Take some bologna and throw it at the wall. Add mustard. Art. Get a B-.