Food for thought

I went to lunch today for the first time in maybe a week (I found American food at the store and have been hoarding). I walked in and said good afternoon like normal and smiled. The lunch lady quietly greeted me, her tone devoid of good tidings. I took the breakfast from the table and noticed it was smaller than usual. The air was filled with a stuffy, uncomfortably awkward tension. To my right, there were 5 people seated, one, a student, was saying "there's no yogurt, there's no meat...". I knew what was going on. No one has been going to the diner for any meal because, well, it's always the same. I can count on oil-dripped eggs, oil-laden bean paste, deep-fried falafel, and cheese for breakfast. I can count on a block of oily rice, a slice of meat, and mixed vegetables for lunch. I can also count on chicken, rice, mixed vegetables, and grapes for dinner. Everyday. Every week. We stopped eating and started starving or going to around the neighborhood for food.

I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place with them. I feel bad for not eating what they cook, as I know they spend a long time during the day doing it. But the food isn't the healthiest, I'm bound to certain hours for mealtimes, and there's no variety. My director said that they aren't going to make changes though she asked. She said we'd just have to deal with it. So I am dealing with it by going to the store every week.

They made me sign a notebook with my email and name. I think they're planning on keeping track of who is eating and who isn't, like at the girl's dorm, making us accountable.

All I know is that they're cooking something up in the kitchen, and it isn't my next prison meal as usual.

Whatever it is, I'm still not eating it.