Yesterday I threw a party at work. It involved multiple trips to Costco, lasagnas and trying to figure out how much bread is enough bread for 80 people. Do you know? Cuz I didn’t. I have loaves left over. Anyone want some french bread?
I purchased 9 lasagnas- 6 meat and 3 veggie. (I really bought ten but someone stole one out of the building fridge even after I had written the name of my organization all over it. Stop! Lasagna thief!) 6 of the lasagnas had to cook for 2 hours. 3 of them had to cook for one hour. What time did we have to start cooking the lasagnas for all of them to be ready to serve at 6:00 pm? See? It’s a word problem. I really loathe word problems. So I made my coworker do the math and be in charge of cooking them.
That’s called delegation, folks.
Then there was the issue with the two ovens. Four lasagnas go in and cook for two hours but only two in the top oven are actually cooked. The bottom two are still frozen in the center. Now we are down to one oven and have only 3 hours until the party starts. And 4 more lasagnas to cook. Or something. I’ve lost track. Basically, I just said fuck it and ordered pizza to make up the difference. Only to discover that 20-30 people who RSVP’d didn’t actually show leaving me with 3.5 left over cooked lasagnas, three frozen lasagnas, a huge bowl of salad, a mega bag of spinach, a tray of sliced french bread and four loaves uncut. Oh. . .and two halves of two cakes. It should be mentioned though that everyone in attendance had a really good time. In spite of the food mishap, it was a successful event.
But let us never talk of lasagna again. Ok? Ok.
Hey, guess what I am having for lunch today?