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So this morning at around 10 I decide that I’m hungry. It’s rare that I eat at work but lately I feel the need to eat everything I see. I’m blaming it on the weather since it’s getting colder here. I assume it’s just because I feel the need to be a fat old lady.

Anyway, I trek down to the kitchen knowing that the fridge has some leftover meat from a few nights ago that we have all been eating. I’m more than happy to head down there and warm up some sloppy joe meat to eat with the awesomely salty potato chips that we also have left over.

A few of the people I work with had told me that they thought the meat had been split up into two containers since we didn’t have enough tupperware lying around the office (which is a real surprise now that I think about it because there is tupperware everywhere at the office. Literally).

I open up the fridge and locate what I believe is the smaller of the two containers. At this point I’m thinking about how noble I am for using the small container instead of getting of bunch of dishes dirty by using the large container. After all, the meat in the small container can just be put in the microwave and I was only using one dish. I’m so awesome! Right?!

Wrong! This is how the two containers were placed in the fridge:

Innocent enough...

Innocent enough…

This all looks innocent enough right?! You can clearly see that both contain what appears to be sloppy joe’s.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. After heating up the container with the blue lid I begin eating it and notice that it has a very strange taste and that it is NOT the same color as the meat that was in the other container. It also tasted like plastic and possibly death. (And by death I mean not really all that bad but you know something is not right).

Katie looks at me and confirms my suspicion that what I was eating was most certainly not what we had a few days prior.

It was then determined that what I was eating could potentially be killing me right now as I write this post. I called my friend April to see if she knew anything about the mystery meat and she laughed so hard she cried. Yep, I said that right. She doesn’t care if I’m going to live or die she just thinks it’s funny that I may have diarrhea disease (which is a real thing, look it up) at some point during this day. (Which I also told her I would send her a picture of just because of her laughter that she couldn’t contain.)

I called everyone I knew to see if anyone had any idea of what it was to no avail. Looking back on it now I’m fairly certain I have opened that fridge several times over the last month or two and looked at that container wondering what it was. Some people have guessed taco meat, others have just flat out denied knowing anything about it.

It’s important to note here that I don’t work with that many people and when no one knows anything about something in the fridge there’s a good possibility that it’s deadly.

So this is what the meat looked like:

Hmm...possibly something wrong?!

Hmm…possibly something wrong?!

This is what the meat looks like that I should have been eating as compared to the mystery meat:

Yep, that looks about right...

Yep, that looks about right…

And how they look next to each other in all their meaty glory:

I'm probably gonna kick the bucket...

I’m probably gonna kick the bucket…

I’m probably going to fall over dead or shit my brains out later tonight. I’m not really sure what the better alternative is at this point.

A big thanks to April for caring so much about my well being while she was laughing until she cried and probably peed a little.