20060622

Nuclear Winter

Some purchases inevitably lead to a great amount of embarrassment. I imagine that most people don't really want to run into their friends at CVS while toting around a cartful of hemmoroid cream. Similarly, I had the luck to run into J while trawling the frozen food aisle at Trader Joe's. She was buying some dried apricots for a friend's party, while I was stocking my own Y2K survival bunker with frozen enchiladas and noodle dishes. I can only imagine how pathetic the checkout guy though I was as I pushed a wheelbarrow of convenience food past his tastefully rustic platform.

And I had to agree with him. Usually, I believe strongly in the Cult of Fresh. Living above a grocery store and a fish market, I heretofore enjoyed the luxury of preparing my own meals from scratch. I give my brother no end of shit for his participation in the agricultural-industrial complex and speak with authentically yuppie horror at partially-hydrogenated this and corn-syrup that.

Problem is, when you're selling your house you have to keep everything clean. Nothing is harder to keep inhumanly clean than a kitchen you actually use. For the last two months, I have been surviving on a rather monotonous blend of restaurant meals and chef's salad. Finally, I gave in and purchased a freezer full of preprepared items which can be cooked up in the microwave or toaster oven.

First, it's bottle returns. Now, it's fresh cooking. What cherished personal belief will I violate next in the pursuit of a clean house? Let's hope I don't have to find out.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home