Rice – a – Rona
I don*t even know how it got here, but once it arrived, there seemed to be no getting rid of it.
Last week half a bag of jasmine rice showed up in my food cupboard. And by *food cupboard* I of course am referring to the 1/2 of the shelf below the microwave cart next to the trash can where I store my pantry items. Does the word *pantry* sound dirty to anyone these days? Anyway. There it was.
This is not my bag of rice! How did it get here? I said to myself in my best David-Byrne-outraged voice.
I moved it to the side and forgot about the whole thing.
A week later…
… it was back.
This time, it had squished my loaf of bread when it landed ingloriously on top of my pantry items. PANTRY PANTRY PANTRY! We*re going in for cheap thrills where we can get *em.
Ok so NOW I*m mad, because I can*t exactly just GO OUT AND BUY BREAD anymore. I had to wake up at 6am and put on a HAZMAT suit to ride the subway to stand in line outside a Trader Joe*s before it even opened to buy that bread!
So I texted my roommates to ask if this was any of their rice that may have gotten misplaced, or run away, or just gotten bored and gone stir-crazy in isolation and decided to use my bread as a makeshift bounce house? Nope, nope, and nope, were their responses.
WHERE DID THE RICE COME FROM??? HOW DO WE GET RID OF IT??! WHY AM I returning from a lengthy blog hiatus to complain about some random bag of rice in my apartment that nobody even wants??
Well, what else am I gonna do? Thus begins week 3 of being stuck at home. Damn.
*** FYI, my apostrophe/quotation marks key has been broken for a really long time and I*m trying to troubleshoot it at home but until then you*re seeing stars, thank you for your patience