I vehemently ripped open the box, leaving a gash in the packing through which I yanked the container of Chow Mein Teriyaki Ramen. The package scentless yet hefty in my hands. The black glint of the black plastic reflecting in the corner of my eye. I swiftly read the directions on the package and tug the lid half way open in one motion, taking out the small white packet with a hint of purple labeling. I shove the container under the faucet and fill it with water till it’s brimming to the fill line. I hurriedly remove the container from the under the faucet, turn off the flow, and open the microwave, punching in five minutes. 

I wait, <i>wait</i>, <b>wait</b>. Until ding — the microwave finishes, I gleefully extract the ramen, steam rising from under the edges of the lid, a small splash of boiling hot water slipping over the side and scolding my hands. I again remove the lid, completely this time. As I get out a fork and drain the remaining water, pour the viscous sauce into the noodles, and stir thoroughly, mixing the two together, the subtle aroma of teriyaki fills the room. I twist the noodles gently around the aforementioned fork and slip it into my mouth, the gentle taste of teriyaki filling my mouth causing my taste buds to jump in excitement.