What the food in my fridge says about me (in bed)

Inspired by an article on Nerve .

In my fridge, right now, belonging to me:

Diet Coke (two liter, flat)
Eggs (one left of a six-pack, Eggland's Best)
Peanut Butter (Teddy)
Jam (Strawberry, smuckers, low sugar)
Hummus (real old- I should toss it out)
Frozen spinach (store brand, two packages)
Butter (store brand, one stick)
Mayonaise (Hellmans, in the upside-down bottle)
Nonfat Milk (Store Brand)
Chai Tea Concentrate (From work)
Sweet Potato (one)

First of all, just looking at that list, you can tell that this is a woman. And I am. And a young woman, probably. Definitely without a family. Definitely busy. All true.

Peanut Butter and jelly suggest that I'm childlike, innocent. Perhaps irresponsible. And I certainly am irresponsible. The long-left hummus certainly would support the hypothesis that I don't like to deal with the consequences of my actions. I leave leftovers way too long. There are many things in my fridge that will probably just spoil before they're eaten. I think I've never finished a package of eggs or quart of milk. I only bought eggs because I was baking brownies. I can't even make an omlet (or spell one). I certainly can't make scrambled eggs.

It also seems like I only eat things that can be spread on bread. That's just a phase I'm going through. I'm very contrary, actually. The more people tell me that giving up carbs, going lo-carb, cutting out bread, cutting out pasta and potatoes and all the wonderful beige, taupe, and tan foods that have sustained civilization for centuries is a good idea...the more I just want to gorge myself on sourdough, rye, pumpernickel. Anything sour. Anything soft. Anything with chew and flake and lovely crust. Sandwiches are just pretense for me, at this point. I'm in it for the bread. Bread and butter, bread and jam, bread with sliced tomatoes, bread with coffee, bread with tea...

I get into these things. It was pasta a while ago. Sandwiches (sammiches) before that. Pie always. I'm compulsive and obsessive, but I've got no sense of commitment. I can't commit to any particular brand of insanity. When I was four it was egg salad, which I haven't had since. I'm in general suspicious of those nominal salads- chicken, egg, ham...

I love the Teddy and Smuckers, though. The low-sugar (no artificial sweetener, either) strawberry jam is just like the inside of a poptart. Warm, on toast, it tastes like pie and sunshine. Cold it tastes like fruit. It's slightly sour, which is wonderful. The teddy is just greasy enough to make me feel like a child; it seems like the only females in this country who still know the sinless joy of buttery chins and slick fingers are under eight. I know I was. But fuck it. I likes m' senshul pleshures.

I use mayonaise for two things only: tuna sandwiches and refinishing furniture. I think that says enough. I'm so fucking crafty. And so finicky. I'm seriously difficult. Nobody knows the multitude of food rules I have. And food is such a small part of life. I won't eat a hawaiian pizza. Not for anyone. Not without pulling the toppings off, at least. It violates rules. I won't eat rice. I have to move the ham from one side of a McDonald's breakfast sandwich to the other side, before I can eat it. Rules.

I actually like nonfat milk more than regular. It tastes better to me. Some people say that this means I don't like milk. I also don't like water. So deal with that. I'm such a lazy drinker. I hate fluids. I get tired of drinking them. I'm into straight espresso, liquor instead of beer, and dehydration.

I used to eat a lot of pasta. Now I eat a lot of things I used to eat on pasta. It's not a low-carb thing, it's a lazy thing. It's also a set-my-bathrobe on fire thing. I eat dinner late. I cook dinner late. I do both of those things tired. Microwaving works well with my lifestyle. And I like spinach. I really do. I mostly put garlic and parmesan cheese and salt on it. Sometimes I mix it with canned tomatoes, which are the reason I don't have scurvy. The sweet potato goes along with the spinach. I can bake it when I get home from work. It's filling. I also put garlic, parmesan cheese, and butter on it. A lot of people put maple syrup and honey and shit on sweet potatoes. That's so fucking against my rules, I can't stand it.

So what does it say about me?