Amy Lu's View

Chad cleaned the refrigerator today.

#QuarantineWin

Chad says this isn’t that impressive, especially without a before photo. I actually asked if he would be troubled if I posted a photo of the inside of our refrigerator. I don’t understand his boundaries, and I could see where one’s consumables are a window to the soul.

Perhaps only those who have house sat for us or looked into our fridge for a drink will get what an accomplishment this is. So trust me, our refrigerator was a nightmare and now it’s not.

Plus, I’ve been feeling extra angsty and antsy today, so it’s nice to have an accomplishment to point to. Even though Chad did the heavy lifting, I do take some credit because I started the cleaning on Sunday (vacuuming out the dried veggie particles until I realized I could just take the drawers out and shake out the debris). I also contributed to the cause today by leaving the house for a short run and getting out of the way.

This victory was marred by the tragedy of losing my tomatoes. I don’t think these two things are causal, just concurrent, although I did channel my mother and blame my spouse for my misfortune.

And yes, the tomatoes we’re never in the refrigerator but still I suspected Chad of doing something with them.

I’m not a fan of mysteries, so I just want to know what happened to my cherry tomatoes. I’m pretty sure I had some last night, and now the whole container is gone. Chad–when interrogated about what he did with my tomatoes–said he thought we still had some, too.

Not only do I mourn the absence of tomatoes, I’m worried about what “losing” them says about my mental, emotional, and inebriated state. How did I not realize/remember I used up my last tomatoes last night? Or did I put them away someplace weird and problematic? Am I going to find my tomatoes two weeks from now in a highly unappetizing state?

Is StanLee B. gaslighting me? Or, more likely, are the cats?