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Refuge for the rational.
Monday, February 28, 2005
The Contents of My Fridge
It’s incredible how long some produce can remain relatively intact in your fridge. I’ve had these clementines since just after Christmas and though they’re on the wrinkly side, they don’t smell or anything. I’m a little scared to throw them away because I have a feeling that if I grip them too hard they might explode, or worse, something living might leap out from inside and attack me.
I have a weird relationship with leftovers. I hate being wasteful, but the thought of eating leftover food turns me into a hypochondriac. This means I have a smelly fridge. That box of baking soda has quite a job on its hands. You would not believe how bad old broccoli smells – I wouldn’t believe me either. At one time I had an overwhelming supply of produce, enough to make many healthy meals. Lately though, all of that has gone to waste, since (and I can’t believe I’m admitting this) I’ve been out doing things and have only had time to eat what is commonly referred to as fast food. I couldn’t believe how quickly the general feeling of wellness left my body: almost from the first bite.
And then today, in my mailbox there was a menu for a Chinese food restaurant. And they deliver. So now I’m sitting here eating Chinese noodles and getting grease all over the keyboard. No, not the fat ones, I like the skinny ones.
Also in my mailbox was a flyer for a community pub night. Interesting. That might be entertaining, though not in the traditional way. I live in one of those funny little communities that act like there isn’t a city of over a million people surrounding it. And it really is surrounding it – it’s just outside of downtown. But, given the vicinity to civilization/distance from suburbia, calm and scenic streets and my charming little house, I don’t so much mind being the only person living here who would paint their walls red or have a smelly fridge.
I have a weird relationship with leftovers. I hate being wasteful, but the thought of eating leftover food turns me into a hypochondriac. This means I have a smelly fridge. That box of baking soda has quite a job on its hands. You would not believe how bad old broccoli smells – I wouldn’t believe me either. At one time I had an overwhelming supply of produce, enough to make many healthy meals. Lately though, all of that has gone to waste, since (and I can’t believe I’m admitting this) I’ve been out doing things and have only had time to eat what is commonly referred to as fast food. I couldn’t believe how quickly the general feeling of wellness left my body: almost from the first bite.
And then today, in my mailbox there was a menu for a Chinese food restaurant. And they deliver. So now I’m sitting here eating Chinese noodles and getting grease all over the keyboard. No, not the fat ones, I like the skinny ones.
Also in my mailbox was a flyer for a community pub night. Interesting. That might be entertaining, though not in the traditional way. I live in one of those funny little communities that act like there isn’t a city of over a million people surrounding it. And it really is surrounding it – it’s just outside of downtown. But, given the vicinity to civilization/distance from suburbia, calm and scenic streets and my charming little house, I don’t so much mind being the only person living here who would paint their walls red or have a smelly fridge.
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