This, I believe, was the photograph that inspired that hilarious adage, “One step forward, two steps back.” It’s just one of those reminders that the natural state of the universe is disarray, and that only great quantities of energy input into the system results in greater order.
My refrigerator is a prime example of what happens when a closed system is left on its own for a significant length of time (significant in terms of the shelf-life of pepperoncinis, as opposed to the shelf-life of say, a star). An extended family of Spanish rice dries beneath the vegetable drawer. A stain of molasses appears on the butter shelf. Do not ask me how. These are some of the mysteries of the universe. Left to itself, the bread would eventually turn to mold, the mold to slime, the slime into pungent molecules floating in the air. My energy is the only energy that can disrupt the plunge of the contents of my refrigerator into smaller and smaller orders of organization–which ends only when all present has returned to the atmosphere and earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
But. But when I try to staunch the inevitable plunge into disorganiation (on a level that is most helpful to me), this happens (see above picture).
This photograph documents precisely why I don’t do things like clean the refrigerator more often, although every once in a while I open the fridge and ask myself, “Why don’t I clean the refrigerator more often?”
This morning, as I cleaned the refrigerator, I got my reminder. While I had my head shoved between December’s cottage cheese and the tortillas of August, Gbot must have dragged a stool from the bathroom and stood on it to reach a twelve-ounce jar from the kitchen counter. Upon dismounting, he must have opened it, and the inner seal, and turned it upside down on the rug. Then Mbot stepped in to help with the distribution.
As it turned out, the jar was filled with rug deodorizer. Raspberry Guava Rug Deodorizer that Mbot had bought for me at school during a Christmas shopping trip in the big kids’ (kindergarten) classroom. I’d been trying to figure out where to store it. I guess I don’t have to worry about that any more. What’s not in my nasal passages is in the Dyson. And now there’s room in the fridge for the empty jar.
How’s entropy treating you these days? And how old are your tortillas?