#95-Realizing there is Food in Your Fridge, On Your Way Home
Finally, today is over. You’ve had the longest streak of anatomy related classes today and you’ve been up and about the muscles and joints of the neck for way too long for comfort. Your teacher decided it hasn’t been your best day so she gave you a B, instead of the A you think you so well deserved. Your classmate raised her hand to steal away the answers to a question you prepared so well for and now she has stolen your A and you can’t do anything about it. Anyways, who cares? After all, all is fair in love and war. What’s important now is that you’re done for the day and its time to go home to your bed that has been missing you all the while. There’s just one thing, you don’t have what to eat at home. No! This can’t be happening. Why you? Why do bad things happen to good people? Now you have to either take fast food that is expensive, or cook to your taste, which is time-consuming. The choice is yours. Fast food has been labeled unhealthy by more than one research institute and you even know what happens in your system when you take a lot of it; you remember describing the pathophysiology of obesity for the teacher last Wednesday. But then again, cooking would take too much time; you have to boil and fry and boil again. If you do all that, when will you rest and most importantly, when will you study for tomorrow’s marathon Pathophysiology class? Why not just take fast food? Besides, you can’t get all the pathologies from eating it just this once. The choosing is taking too much time. You don’t have time for this. You begin walking towards the nearest MacDonald’s and as you go, you take a look at your crying wallet as you try to gauge your stomach and your funds with a rather uncommon scale. Then suddenly, a crack, a flash, a sound of thunder, you remember there is still a portion of day before yesterday’s jollof rice left in the freezer. You stop for a minute and in the words of Keane “you think about things you really don’t want to know”; that the rice is small, that the rice is frozen, that the rice is coming to you live, all the way from the day before yesterday. But like I said, you don’t want to know. You make the most abrupt U-turn in the history of abrupt U-turns and you run like a mad man home to your small frozen jollof rice from day before yesterday, because that feeling that your crying wallet isn’t going to break into its mourning phase of utter, complete emptiness, and that all you need to do to regain a full stomach status is to use the microwave, is AWESOME.
Victor Enahoro Ohwo