There are moments in life when society’s rules feel less like guidance and more like suggestions written by someone who has never truly been hungry.

Which brings me to a gem from The Onion. A man, bold and unburdened, who reportedly said “duck it” and ate lunch at 10:58am. Ten. Fifty. Eight. A time that still smells faintly of coffee and productivity, not meatloaf and existential surrender.

I chuckled. Deeply. Spiritually. Possibly with a fork in hand.

Because while this man is out here flirting with late-morning rebellion, I have been living in full culinary anarchy for years. I don’t occasionally eat lunch early. I have lunch at 9:28am. Sometimes 9:17 if the mood is particularly daring.

And not a dainty, confused “is this brunch?” situation. No. I’m talking meatloaf. Pork chops. Broccoli cheese soup. Meals that require commitment. Meals that say, I have lived, I have chosen, and I will not be interrupted by a sad desk salad at 1:12pm.

I used to call it “a big breakfast,” which is adorable and also a lie.

Because at some point, we have to ask ourselves when does a “big breakfast” become a “decisive lunch”? When the eggs are replaced by pork chops? When the coffee is emotionally outmatched by gravy?

Or is it less about the clock and more about the audacity?

The Onion man understood something profound in his quiet rebellion. Time is a construct, but hunger is a truth. And also, meetings are relentless and people are people. Why wait until noon to nourish yourself when 10:58 or in my case, 9:28 is sitting right there, wide open and full of possibility?

There is also, if we’re being honest, a deeply psychological elegance to this move.

By eating my “lunch” before most people have finished pretending to read emails, I have effectively removed an entire category of daily stress. No wandering around at noon wondering what to eat. No awkward “should we grab lunch?” negotiations. No standing in line behind someone ordering a customized, deconstructed, emotionally complex sandwich.

I am done. I have eaten. I am free.

Free from hunger. Free from decision fatigue. Free, frankly, from people.

And isn’t that what we’re all chasing in our own small ways? Not just productivity or health or whatever buzzword we’re pretending to care about this week. But relief. A little pocket of control in a day that often feels like it’s running us instead of the other way around.

So maybe it’s time we normalize this.

Maybe instead of sheepishly saying, “Oh, I had a big breakfast,” we look the world dead in the eye and say “I said duck it. I had lunch at 9:28am.”

And maybe, just maybe, that is the kind of boundary-setting, joy-seizing, slightly unhinged energy we need more of.

Because life is short. Schedules are arbitrary. And pork chops at 9:28am?

Honestly, yum.

(And, yes The Onion is satire)