There Are No Other People in This House and You're the Only One Who Has to Make Trouble

so in case you haven't been around. my parents up and went to china to dazzle their minds. so i'm home alone, and yes, i do feel very much like a young macauley culkin (i.e., kevin mcCallister of "i made my family disappear" and "look what you did, you little jerk" fame). i'm working at my mom's office for two weeks, as in actually working: no internet, no cellphone, no outdoor lunches with fellow socialites. today i reorganized files for 4 hours and then cleaned the kitchenette for 2.5 hours and then did various minute but vital tasks for 1.5 hours. i felt very brawny at the end of the day.

i could have sopped up a spill with my bare face today.

then i checked my email when i got home. and realized my job search is going pisspoorly. i should just stop checking my email. i should just do job applications that involve throwing rocks at people. i could do that on the way to my mom's office, on the way home from my mother's office and if i feel like it, on my lunch break. eh. i know i have the gumption and wherewithal (i have no idea what that word means) to make something of myself. it could happen any day now. in the meantime, i am going to gently toss pebbles around.

millions of pebbles. pebbles for me.

so enough of that tomfoolery. here's the thing i want to talk about today: food wastage. i can't waste food. i was raised in a house where your plate was clean, all questions asked. who was with you when you finished that? please call witness A to the table. witness A, can you please vouch for the defendant's consumption of the aforecooked lentils? yes? good. case closed. let's not talk about what happened when discarded vittle remnants were found anywhere in the vicinity of the garbage. unspeakable things took place. generous portions of punishment were distributed and it was seen to that they were gobbled up thoroughly and crumblessly by the little criminal.


anyway, that brings me to the case of the grapes. since i'm in a huge empty house, the fridge holds endless possibilities for my downfall in the area of not wasting food. there were some luscious grapes of which i am about to speak. here goes: grapes. in my fridge. ripe. ready to eat. washed. except for oneeee leeetle problem. TELLTALE MOLD! white wispy fuzz starting at the interstices of the stems and working its way steadily toward the succulent purple globes though not actually touching any of the brave comrades.
MY EYES! MY EYES!

i could have been reasonable and just plucked the grapes safely off, one by one, into an antiseptic ziploc bag. but who can be reasonable in the face of mold?! instead, i began chucking grapes to safety into my mouth at the speed of sound barely taking the time to chew each one before another buoyant bubble was launched squarely aft. ZING! PHWING! PA-TING!

after the point of no return where i was so full of grapes, i could hardly squeak, i started doing the unthinkable, actually following the five-second rule. somehow, i know not how (do not look at me, I SAID, DO NOT LOOK AT ME)... seven grapes ended up on the floor. i don't know how. i don't know why. and the weird thing is i started bending over to initiate my grape retrieval program with 5+ seconds to spare, but somehow, when i reached the fallen, 7 ticks of the second hand had elapsed.

OH WELL. grapes in the can. grapes in the can. oh dear. why is it that even in an empty house i feel like i'm being watched? i'm locking my bedroom door tonight. no vengeful grapes are spreading their wispy shrouds of musty entrapment on me.

wow i had all sorts of visual aids on this write-up.