Can't Say I Feel Better, But...

Nothing tests one’s age induced vision decline better than doing a purge. Not the eating kind. No, I mean the kind a woman does when upset. The kind in which she moves through drawers and closets purging out the old and unwanted until she finally makes her way to the kitchen cabinets. I view these occurrences much like that of a natural forest fire, needed in preserving a healthy environment and when done often, preventing the need to hire army of workers to clear away and extract all the crap and debris from one's home, a.k.a forest floor. 

With music at near deafening levels (conducive to not thinking), there I stood on a stool with many a box and canister in hand, arm stretching back and forth as if made of rubber, while my eyes tried to focus on various expiration dates. I, of course, muttering the entire time, “What the hell...I can't read that.” "Oh my God that's old," and so on and so forth. 

It seems I was housing a jar of Brewer’s Yeast that ended its active duty in July of 2007. I also had a bottle of instant coffee from 2009, and one box of pancake mix that was about to kick the bucket in May of 2012. I didn’t want to dabble with that goofy pancake toxicity illness I read about once - so I tossed it. You know the one: the person eats a pancake made from an expired mix, the next thing they know they’re in the hospital clinging for life. I’m not a chemist, I can’t tell if there are mold spores in the mix, and as fate seems pithy as of late, I chose not to tempt anything. 

I also pitched the bags of quinoa and garbanzo flour. I believe both were still within their healthy lifetime but honestly, I can’t stand their taste. I tried to convince myself otherwise. But a muffin that tastes like a bean is not my idea of a good time. I also gave the bag of TVP the ol’ heave-ho. When the heck am I going to use textured vegetable protein?

This may appear wasteful on my part. Its not. Note to men: this is how women operate. Perhaps not women of impeccable breeding. I can’t even fathom what they do when upset. I envision copious martinis and a half downed bottle of tranquilizers. But, I’m not of impeccable breeding (and I don’t have any drugs on hand). I’m German and English, with a healthy dose of Irish and a small dollop of American Indian just to keep me grounded. In other words, I’m like most women. And most women find some level of clarity, upon clearing out their house. Some men might be conjuring the idea that with this in mind, it may be good to periodically disappoint and/or thoroughly upset one's partner. I can only advise doing so if one has no fear of dying in one's sleep (I'm just kidding. Not really.)

So if you come to visit, don’t expect to find much in my cupboards. If you are looking for that bag of unrefined, unbleached organic whole can sugar that I bought by mistake and not only looks like dirt but tastes like dirt - its gone. But if you want to talk, we can. When it comes to my mind - its always clear.

Sane