I decided to go all Dr. Phil on myself and self-diagnose my life by looking in my kitchen cupboards. My kitchen is pretty small, so I didn’t have to delve too deep. That’s lucky, because I wasn’t really looking for any skeletons in the cupboard.
My pantry is pretty full right now. Baking goods that I gave into buying, jars of pasta and rice that I don’t actually use, unopened peppermint tea because I thought I’d like to look alternative, and cocoa pops that I occasionally eat for dinner.
The fridge has large amounts of dairy, veges that die a slow death in the drawer, a stash of nail polish because I read that it was good idea, one of those pasta meal thingys for one, an accidental chocolate purchase that for some reason is disappearing at record speed, wines for just in case, and sand (how and why, I have no idea. Can I vacuum out the fridge?).
Above the fridge, the freezer reveals crusts of bread I will eventually throw out, large amounts of meat that were on special, a good supply of ice, and vodka waiting for its cocktail potential.
The fruit bowl beckons me sometimes, but the fruit flies usually win them over. And my fourth drawer down spews out plastic bags. I didn’t even mention my healthy liquor cabinet full of duty-free treats.
So I figure that my kitchen is full of good intentions. Every week I throw out food that has gone off, like my random yet fabulous ideas that never seem to come to fruition. I need to challenge myself to eat all of my food. But that’s way too hard when I spend a lot of time not eating at my own place.
I’d also like to think that my cupboards tell me that I am prepared for emergencies. If there was an earthquake, I am sufficiently equipped to whip up a cocktail and accompany this with a tin of peaches sprinkled with macaroni.
So now my fridge informs me that it would be nice to be cleaned out, the fruit bowl is telling me to stop wasting my time on chocolate, and my pantry would like me to cook some rice once in a while. The liquor cabinet just winks, as it knows I don’t need any extra coaxing.
Dr. Phil would probably say a lot about me, without even looking in my cupboards. I think I’d go all Dr. Phil on Dr. Phil and try and assess his kitchen cupboards, if given the chance.
Was this a pointless exercise in telling people about my dietary habits? Probably, but what do you reckon your kitchen cupboards say about you?