So, I've always thought of myself as someone who can manage everyday operations, keep track of small inventories, optimize utilization, etc.
Basically, I thought I could run a bloody household fairly efficiently. And to be fair, I have managed pretty well so far.
When I lived with my parents, I managed the buying, stocking and dispensing of toiletries, cleaning supplies and other such materials. During my epic parties, I managed the buying and distribution of snacks, food and liquor. Even matches and lighters for the hapless smokers, who would stagger around, barely awake, at 3 am, trying to find me, so that I could locate a matchbox for them.
When I moved in with friends, I retained my reputation of ensuring that very little got thrown away, from leftovers to clothing. I'm a conserver, a reuser, a recycler.
I'm practically Captain Planet!
But every now and then, my superpowers are superseded by something monumentally stupid. Such as a watermelon.
One that has resided in the vegetable crisper of my fridge for no less than a quarter of a year. I kid you not.
This melon has witnessed the change of seasons. We bought it sometime in summer, and now that it's autumn, nearing winter, it still sits there in all its glory, mocking me. We planned to eat it. Truly, we did. We just never got around to it.
The most curious part is that it shows no signs of decomposition, at least on the surface.
I don't know what to do with it anymore. I'm too afraid that it has become sentient, or sprouted an ecosystem of its own. So I'm just avoiding the crisper altogether.
As I write this, the watermelon continues to occupy its place of pride in my fridge, an indubitable testament to my failure to adult.
Basically, I thought I could run a bloody household fairly efficiently. And to be fair, I have managed pretty well so far.
When I lived with my parents, I managed the buying, stocking and dispensing of toiletries, cleaning supplies and other such materials. During my epic parties, I managed the buying and distribution of snacks, food and liquor. Even matches and lighters for the hapless smokers, who would stagger around, barely awake, at 3 am, trying to find me, so that I could locate a matchbox for them.
When I moved in with friends, I retained my reputation of ensuring that very little got thrown away, from leftovers to clothing. I'm a conserver, a reuser, a recycler.
I'm practically Captain Planet!
But every now and then, my superpowers are superseded by something monumentally stupid. Such as a watermelon.
One that has resided in the vegetable crisper of my fridge for no less than a quarter of a year. I kid you not.
This melon has witnessed the change of seasons. We bought it sometime in summer, and now that it's autumn, nearing winter, it still sits there in all its glory, mocking me. We planned to eat it. Truly, we did. We just never got around to it.
The most curious part is that it shows no signs of decomposition, at least on the surface.
I don't know what to do with it anymore. I'm too afraid that it has become sentient, or sprouted an ecosystem of its own. So I'm just avoiding the crisper altogether.
As I write this, the watermelon continues to occupy its place of pride in my fridge, an indubitable testament to my failure to adult.
