Yep, you guessed it. I finally did it. I cleaned out my insane, post Great-Depression-era, hoarder-granny, mess of a fridge this weekend. I have been stepping up my future self goals and have started preparing my lunches for work on the weekends so I can avoid getting fast food during the week. This means there has to be room for that stuff in the fridge.
My refrigerator has long been a secret source of humiliation for me. Any time someone would come over for dinner and offer to help or ask to put something in the fridge, I basically block them like I’m harboring a wanted fugitive in there and load myself down with all the stuff they have brought and shove them into a seat at the kitchen table under the guise of hostess guilt. I’m not actually that polite. In fact, later on when everyone leaves, I’ll grumble that no one helped with the dishes or clean up even though I told them it wasn’t a big deal when they asked if there was anything they could do to help. Yes, I’m this person. I know it’s pretty ridiculous.
Meanwhile, Pinterest, aka the ultimate evil, all-knowing, all contentedness destroying, comparison generator, shows me pictures of perfectly pristine fridges with straight lines, all items categorized and arranged in order of requisite coldness and frequency of use. My fridge is so crammed full of stuff, half of which is so far past date I can’t remember buying it. Two of my three fridge door shelves routinely collapse from load bearing fractures caused by heavy items that should have been stored on the top shelf.
What’s up there, you ponder? Most of my prime fridge space, the top shelf, is reserved for several slightly pilfered bottles of wine and alcohol. You know why? Because I’m a grownup and I’m supposed to like alcohol, but I don’t and I keep lying to myself. I like coffee, which is why coffee doesn’t stay in my fridge. Also, kombucha drinks. I HATE THEM. It’s like sweet vinegar with a twist of cleaning solution. And yet, there they are on the top shelf.
Why do I keep buying things I don’t like? Because I lie to myself about my coolness factor, that’s why. Why, yes I AM the coolness factor level nine. I drink kombucha and wine. Lies. I’m only like a coolness factor 4 and it would do me, my bank account and my fridge space good to just accept it for what it is.
See, I do this buying phase thing based on my motivations at the time. One week I will be obsessed with starting a morning oatmeal eating habit, so I will buy a ridiculous amount and variety of oatmeals. A week later, I couldn’t care less about that oatmeal and have to shuffle it around constantly to get to the other stuff in the cabinet. The next week it will be kombucha, or meatless meats, or loads of vegetables, and so on. Right now it’s those Scratch Kitchen meal prep kits. They were on sale. And there we have the most insidious last words in the history of last words “They were on SALE.”
I noticed when I was at the store that I would get in a mode of looking for something, convince myself to buy it, then buy a lot of it and have to buy a lot of other stuff that I have to have to make it. Only this time, I saw the thoughts as I was having them and put the stuff back before it got to my cart. Well, except for the Scratch Kitchen kits. I can’t help it. I love them and they were on SALE! This is the guilt caused by hoarding tendencies left unchecked.
I’m so proud of myself. I cleaned out the fridge completely. Yes, even that gross area underneath the crisper drawer that had a puddle of unknown goo and a hardened unknown dark matter layer and many onion skins in it… and behind all the drawers and in all the shelves too. There isn’t a single sticky gooey ring or dried or moldy thing in my fridge right now. That’s right, friends. I did all the things and now my fridge is pinterest level perfection.
You ready for this? I even got the model number of my fridge, took one my stress fractured door shelves to our local appliance part replacement store and got two new shelves to replace the broken ones that are constantly collapsing. I don’t know what has come over me. I even facetimed a few people just so they could see it. My little sister and my husband are the only ones that will truly know the level of transformation achieved.
So, again, more randomness because I needed to write something. How about your fridge? Is it crammed full to the point of overflowing or sparse? Do you have any self control when it comes to things on sale? If not, what stuff do you keep buying and not eating or drinking? What part of our damaged childhood selves is responsible for this obsessive pattern!? If you figure any of this out, let me know.