#220 - Refrigeration is Personal

Peek into someone’s fridge, and you get a glimpse into their soul.

Because what one chooses to store in the crib’s chilliest place provides clues to those with inspective impulses whilst grabbing a glass of water. Are there indications of plans for the unexpected (or expected) Armageddon, or is it a bare-bones, protein shake and salad with raspberry vinegarette affair?

Food lends definition to our existence. And what we choose to stock in the container of cool mirrors our personality. This inventory often reflects how we manage our bodies, entertain people, and what we stand for as members of society.

And the volume speaks volumes.

For instance, if you find frozen Salisbury steak television-ready dinners amassed on the freezer shelves, chances are good that the person bathes at least once a week, whether he needs it or not. If the produce appears visibly abundant and there’s oat milk and faux meat, she most likely owns a yoga mat. And if a tub of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream and leftover Domino’s Pizza is evident, then it’s quite obvious they are a stoner. However, some may find that contradictory because a stoner probably wouldn’t have any Ben and Jerry’s ice cream left. So, let’s pretend they just made a grocery run.

And by the way, the Cap’n Crunch that sits on top of the refrigerator does indeed deserve inclusion.

It’s almost like the refrigerator is your butler. It stands ready at the guard; you chat with it. You audit the innards and shuffle the contents accordingly. Its interior is a calendar of sorts, most items categorized by importance while others stay static—the capers, the horseradish, the sauce you took a chance on—accessibility based upon importance.

This place is a barometer of your success. You need to be content with the contents.

And it’s where you stash your dabs.

Right next to the Devil’s lettuce.