These weekends are starting to feel as long as a lunch break.

I bring a very โ€œare you going to eat your pickleโ€ vibe to lunch meetings.

Whoever came up with a 30 minute lunch break needs a 30 minute beating.

Starting the second half of your sandwich is like “hell yeah, baby, letโ€™s run it back!”

That odd feeling when your lunch break is over and you still have to work for another 30 years.

My favorite exercise is a combination of a lunge and a crunch. It’s called lunch.

Combining breakfast and lunch: Brunch. Combining wine and dinner: Winner.

“Bye, have a great day, Iโ€™ll see you after school”, I tell the orange in my kidโ€™s lunch.

I lost my job at NASA Mission Control today. I misheard when they said, “It’s lunch time.”

I’m not saying Lois Lane is a bad investigative journalist, but my friend Greg didn’t wear glasses to work yesterday and I recognized him by lunch time.

Keeping a picture of my bed in a locket around my neck and staring at it longingly on my lunch break.

You either get a kid who eats like a bottomless pit, or you get one that when asked what they want for lunch answers โ€œNo thanks, I had lunch yesterday.โ€

The sandwich I made for lunch didnโ€™t even make it until 10am.

People on diet arenโ€™t mad at you. Theyโ€™re mad at their lunch.

I wish I was as tired in bed at night as I am after lunch at work.

Plants are like โ€œIโ€™ll have a light lunch.โ€

Not much is worse than that feeling of going back to work after a lunch, or a vacation, or just going to work in general.

One day you’re 18 eating pizza for every lunch, then suddenly you’re 30 and eating salad with celery and kale juice.