perishable: stress

Buying persihable food items maps out my life in a way that makes me uncomfortable.  There is nothing more stressful than a couple of bananas going from green to yellow to brown on my kitchen counter.  (This is hyperbole.  Of course there are things that are more stressful than rotting bananas.  I’ll get into that later).  I hate throwing away foodstuffs because I could not fit them into my gut in sync with their tiny ripe lifespan.  I hate eating a banana out of a sense of obligation and thrift even when I don’t want a banana solely because this is the day before the banana turns to mush and spontaneously generates tiny winged flies.  Bananas should not control my behavior.  But I love fresh food.  And what if I want a banana when there is no banana around? 

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