*Tupperware tidies up the leftovers.  Plunk it in, snap it shut.

*I wish I could click along the broad, city sidewalk, tucked in, wearing white gloves and holding a clutch; but this is reality, not a reel to reel movie that clicks in its evocative way, allowing for splicing, allowing for starting and stopping.  No.  There are incessant responsibilities and the weight of decisions and comportment.

*In which case, to switch to a baseball metaphor, maybe I can get a pinch hitter on my bad days, someone who can take the heat off of me, who can actually live my life for me in the hard moments.  Or at the very least a highly involved base coach?

*In a pinch, I may clutch you.  Physically.  It’s just a thing I sometimes do.

*For example, during the suspenseful or shocking parts of scary movies, I often grab my companion’s leg.

*Companions don’t always like that.

*But I do always like matching tupperware–

*with it, I don’t have to clutch my scraps of food in my bare hands all night long.

*Instead, I can go to bed, sending up gratitude for well designed bowls with fitted lids, and falling into the deep sleep I need.


its a wrap ballerina


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