When good cucumbers go bad

I have a vegetable bin in my refrigerator, which usually holds half an onion from 3 months ago and a couple shriveled up cloves of garlic. On those odd occasions when I decide to eat healthy foods, I may even put vegetables in it. The problem is that it’s invisible.

I know it was there when I bought the refrigerator. I mentally measured the drawer space to make sure that I could fit a head of cauliflower, a bunch of celery, two turnips, and a zucchini in there at the same time, which just goes to show how delusional I can be.

Today I had to go shopping, because the refrigerator was empty: no strawberry cheesecake, leftover pizza, or cream puffs in sight … and the bin magically appeared. I opened it to find a gelatinous mound of goo that used to be a cucumber.

I know that at my age I should be eating food rich in antioxidants, like blueberries, kale, and chard. When I went to the store, I managed to sail right past the produce section and end up in the frozen food aisle, my nose pressed up against the glass as I pondered whether to get the pound cake or apple pie. It was kind of hard to see past all the smudge prints. I’m pretty sure that the monkey bread I just ate had free radicals swimming in the cinnamon sauce.

Maintaining my post-menopausal weight requires mathematical snacking precision. One can of Diet Coke = one Twinkie. One walk around the lake = half a bag of chips. The fact that I can eat all the chard I want never even enters into the equation, since all the chard I want = zero.

Lesson learned. I’m determined to improve my eating habits, so as an after-thought, I picked up a rutabaga on the way to the checkout stand. I honestly don’t know if it has any nutritional value, but at least it won’t turn to mush as fast as a cucumber.