The state of the kitchen.
“You devote yourself to your future self’s wants,” writes Lucy Ellman in her novel Man or Mango? “You do its chores for it, tidy up so that your future self can find things later, avoid committing crimes which will land your future self in prison, pay bills so your future self will be adequately provided with heat and lighting, food and shelter.”
Which is why my kitchen is such an ungodly mess right now, and why I am unable to go in there and cook a meal for myself. Andys have been in there for days — weeks, perhaps — cooking and making messes and not doing dishes and eating Mexican food and not taking the trash or recycling out. Some of the Andys didn’t even separate the trash from the recycling.
“Who’s going to clean up this mess?” asks Last Tuesday Andy.
Last Thursday Andy snorts derisively as he eats a quesadilla con carne asada (and leaves the wrapper out). “Pfft. Let Andy do it. If he wants to cook so bad, he can take care of this himself.”
Ha ha ha, they all laugh. “Ha ha ha! Yeah! Stupid Future Andy! What a chump!”
Those assholes are right; I am a chump.
I should punish them. I am going to misremember as much as I can about my meals from last week. That quesadilla, for example, was really dry and they went really light on the meat. So enjoy your dry, crumbly quesadilla, Last Thursday Andy. I will retroactively ruin every meal I have ever eaten to get back at those irresponsible loafers.
