Sometimes I open the fridge and just stare.
I do the grocery shopping, I do the cooking, and the eating. Things do not appear or disappear in there. (Mister and I straightened out that issue early on, hands off my meals).
Yet I still open, and stare.
I don’t want to eat what is in there some nights. Or I’m craving something sweeter. Or fresher. Or nothing at all but something to full the roar of a growling stomach.
Tonight I was excited for a big hunk of salmon. It went bad, while lost in the depths of the very same fridge referenced above. Perfectly delectable salmon, wasted.
Nothing else in the fridge seemed as good.
So I decided to finish up the rest of the orphaned items that were at risk of going bad.
Almost wilt-y snow peas, shredded leftover chicken. The last egg from the carton.