It’s 12.30pm as I write this. My mind is preoccupied with moving my fingers from key to key on my ageing laptop, a task I paused briefly to remove a hair from the screen. Then, I scratched my leg again, which kicked up another hair. I should get back to work, but I can’t concentrate. Why? Because I’m incredibly hungry. It is, after all, lunchtime – the most worthless part of any work day.

It is not that there’s shame in lunch. It’s just that we’re not programmed to eat at a certain time. We’re all different and the whole concept of the office lunch is obsolete nonsense in 2026. Let it go.

Big Lunch (or alternatively, the Lunch Industrial Complex) will tell you otherwise. Lunch is considered a fundamental element of the work day. It is legally mandated here in California, after all. But it is also something people who work in offices look forward to. It’s a moment to step away from the invisible chains that attach us to our computers for an hour or so of normal human behavior. Back when I worked in an office, I would look at my phone and think, if I can just make it to noon, I’ll be OK. Lunch was like a little treat to break up the monotony of corporate life. In some jobs, there was even a free lunch to make the whole thing even more appealing. You can’t leave the office. You don’t even have to leave the office!

I wasn’t around for most of the 20th century, but according to TV shows like Mad Men, the old days of lunch meant meandering to a classy steakhouse and getting drunk off martinis, then plopping on to a chaise longue until the buzz wore off. I would happily endorse that version of lunch, but that’s not what we are being presented with today. The modern office lunch is about convenience and expediency. It’s being hustled through a Sweetgreen to collect your biodegradable bucket of vegetables so you can get back to your desk before your next meeting.

The work day lunch is merely a distraction from your unenviable reality, offering the illusion of choice while reinforcing the plain and simple fact of your need to earn a living performing a series of tasks you hate. Shall I have pizza or Mexican food? No, I mustn’t. I shall have a salad, lest I become a walking man-beast made primarily of partially digested carbohydrates.

Lunch, as a concept, evolved from light refreshments as a leisure activity to a meal equal to the other two, thanks to the rapid rise of industrialization in the 19th century. Lunch became a crucial break from mining coal or assembling car parts. I don’t need nearly as much of a break from designing PowerPoint slides or responding to an email that’s “just following up on my previous request”. Patience, yes. But that’s a different story.

So, we have rendered this middle child of a meal (not as nourishing as breakfast and not as fun as dinner) a culinary pariah tied directly into emotional desire. Lunch is the vestigial tail of the Industrial Revolution. I no longer look forward to noon like an over-caffeinated child anticipating Christmas morning. Maybe I’ll have a small snack – nuts, a protein bar, crudites. I might even read or go for a walk. I recognize my privilege here, that I’m not mandated to be anywhere or do anything I don’t want to do. I can occupy myself with other pursuits that are more nourishing than a buffalo chicken wrap. But the fact remains that my job is still as active as any office worker’s. As in, not at all. I prefer a big, nutritious breakfast or a nice, early dinner.

If I have to meet someone socially or professionally during the day, or if my stomach is screaming at me, I’ll eat. (In my fantasies, my stomach sounds exactly like my mother, a topic to unpack another time.) But without the peer pressure of needing to make use of my hour of mandated leisure time by filling my mouth with overpriced junk (or gossiping with co-workers), I can truly be free. The office lunch is a scam perpetrated by venture capitalists with big dreams of franchising their various “elevated” takeout dining experiences. But automation, economic malaise and the collapse of the urban business district are going to make these places even more useless. Sweetgreen’s business is cratering for these very reasons. As the economy suffers, fast food is growing in popularity again, but fast food is not the answer.

Places like Sweetgreen, Pret a Manger or Cava sustain themselves on the concept of lunch being connected to leisure: with your hour of free time, you should have a meal, even if it’s food you don’t even particularly enjoy consuming. I’m not saying don’t eat lunch; rather that the break you receive from the drudgery of employment should be spent on pleasurable activities. If that means eating, great. But don’t do it just because you think you have to. I say we should normalize taking a nap in the afternoon. Not a Mad Men-style snooze caused by excessive alcohol consumption, but a rest from the all-consuming stimulus of modern life. Get rid of the cubicles and unused couches in the various open-plan tech spaces and put in beds. Give me a teddy bear and one of those caps cartoon characters wore at night.

And now … I’m done typing. I can go eat something. Why am I eating in the afternoon? Am I some kind of hypocrite?

No.

It’s because I didn’t eat breakfast.

• Dave Schilling is a Los Angeles-based writer and humorist