The Daily Durvy

It is getting a little desparate in my apartment.

I have not gone grocery shopping for, oh, 5 weeks or so. It started before Spring Break, when I decided that going shopping would simply result in spoiled food because there is no way in hell I would eat all of my groceries in the 5 days before I go home to LA.

An innocent enough situation: I had plenty of food to get me though until I left Davis. Now, on my 3rd week back in Davis since Spring Break, I have yet to buy myself food.

I blame this on a two factors: my mother, and my ability to stomach very plain food for a very long time.

Growing up, my mother waited until the last possible minute to go grocery shopping. We had to have NOTHING in the fridge, pantry or freezer to convince my mother to go to the grocery store. I used to resent her for this, now I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND. I HATE the grocery store and everything it represents. Because what it represents is meal planning and cooking your own food and generally taking care of oneself. What do you mean cheeseburgers don’t come cooked, assembled, and ready to eat? I need a deep fryer to get those results? I have to cut what? Fuck that shit.

In addition to this refusal of responsibility, I also have no problem with eating plain pasta for breakfast, lunch, and even dinner sometimes IF IT MEANS I DON’T HAVE TO COOK. In fact, right now I am chowing down on cold plain pasta STRAIGHT FROM THE TUPPERWARE. Instant food = good food. I also have flexible standards when it comes to expiration dates. I view them as mere suggestions, not as hard and fast rules. Tofu 5 days past it’s prime? Not going to kill me. Orange juice that was supposed to be thrown away a month ago? Tastes fine, and what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.

(My sister does not subscribe to this line of thinking. She will not drink, eat or smell anything if the expiration date is 3 days away.)

And I still listen to The Backstreet Boys. Surprised? You shouldn’t be.