My Life is Like a Pina Colada

In which the Sorbet wins. 

Sometimes I open up my freezer and realize I have no idea what is in it.  Probably my plight is common among other middle-class Americans with poor organization skills.  However, I am constantly amazed at the things I find in that freezer.  For instance, for several months after surgery I graciously received meals from others.  Due to the spreading word of my milk allergy, almost every night I was given sorbet.  I soon became disgusted with the stuff and went through a period near the end of the free food experience where I refused to eat it and would instead stuff it into some unknown place in the freezer.  Let’s be honest—sorbet just can’t take the place of a good scoop of dairy-loaded ice cream.  Finally, I overcame my issues and finished up the last of it sometime in December. 

Or so I thought.  A few days ago I found the oddest thing.  I had no idea what it was—no recognition of the item, whatsoever.  Straight from the freezer it looked like a bowl of sorbet covered with perhaps berries.  However, once out of its wrapping, I found it to be pineapple flavored sorbet in what looked to be a dish actually made from the outside of a pineapple.  There was also a lemon peel filled with sorbet and a half a coconut (guess what it had inside?).  If you like Pina Coladas…

What came after was the best sorbet I’ve ever had in my life.  It’s uncontrollably ironic that of all the sorbets I wouldn’t eat during my convalescence, probably the only one I would have genuinely liked sat in my freezer for months.  And why?  Because I have no idea what’s in there.  I have the same problem with my Tupperware.  While my mom was here, she decided that the Tupperware would be better suited in a cabinet across the kitchen from the place I’d chosen for it.  Now I have two separate Tupperware cupboards.  As if finding the lid wasn’t a big enough problem before. 

These bits of managerial ineptitude are examples of my life as a whole.  I feel like I’m still discovering strange things about myself—aspects that I either didn’t understand, or that I didn’t possess before my surgery.  I can remember some things that I did soon after surgery, but may not understand them.  Or sometimes I can understand, but don’t fully remember.  It drives me crazy every time I try to put together Eva’s straw/sippy cups.  I pull open the drawer to find the separate pieces only to suddenly remember that I randomly threw one of the small pieces away on a tired day.  We’re talking disorganization on a whole new level here. 

Amidst a series of frustrating loose-ties experiences, the delicious pina colada sorbet was a pleasant and tasty surprise.