Text to Einstein: Am I dying again?
Einstein: Probably. What did you eat this time?
Wendy: a questionable sweet potato. Was it too old?
Einstein: How the fuck should I know?
(haha, just kidding, he didn't say that, although we all know he was thinking it. He's way too nice to verbalize it, however.)
This potato seemed a bit off. I hate wasting food, so I ate it anyway. I may play it safe and throw the rest of the bag out. Maybe just the soft, fuzzy ones. Just goofing. Or am I? Sigh, I thought potatoes were supposed to last longer. I'm sure I'm storing them incorrectly, but I'm confused where else to store them. I know they're not supposed to be in the fridge, but there is no other cool, dark spot in the house. It's Florida, ffs. Everywhere else is 75-80 F. We don't have basements or root cellars. Fuck, I don't even know what a root cellar is, except something from a horror movie, WHICH I REFUSE TO WATCH.
Maybe I need to stop buying them (sweet potatoes, not horror movies. That would be weird considering I won't watch them). Or at least stop buying a bag at a time, and buy only one or two. I'd never last a fkn day on Mars by myself, growing my own potatoes. Even if I could text Einstein for tips. You may have read how I've killed off copious amounts of orchid plants. I'm amazed every day that I haven't accidentally poisoned myself or the cat. We must be hardy stock.
Definitely write yourself a mental note, never eat at Wendy's house. :P
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