Cobeast-workers always ask me what I'm making for dinner I work in a cubicle jungle. Stuck next to 3 planets. Gunterella, Pannus Minimus, and Pannus Maximus who is one donut away from scooter status.  They know I like to cook. But I don't live in the kitchen. I plan my menu out and spend Sunday cooking breakfast and dinner to last me all week. I cook 3 big dinners, we eat the leftovers the following night. Saturday we eat out or order delivery. With 5 of us, I could never afford to eat out all the time so we only splurge one night a week.  Lardasses ask me everyday what I'm having that night. And it turns into ooooo and ahhhh that sounds delicious! Just at the mere mention of food has them salivating like Pavlov's dog. They literally live to eat.