Burnt Pasta and Blackened Hearts

I had a mishap a few weeks ago. Yes, I realize I’m straying from my usual format to tell a boring real-life story, but bear with me for a minute. So, anyway, I was microwaving my dinner, some tortellini bathed in a delicious red sauce. I was really looking forward to it; I had made it the day before, and had been quite satisfied. Food excites me a little bit, so my spirits were high, and my hopes were higher…okay, so food excites me a lot.

But I digress. So I was reheating my food, when suddenly a heavy black smoke began pouring out of the microwave. I quickly removed it, only to find that the tupperware bowl had melted, and my food was completely ruined. I was more than a little upset; there may have been a moment where I was close to tears.

My food was FUBAR, and my trust of the microwave had been broken, so I settled for a peanut butter sandwich. Since then, I have been terrified of using the microwave. When I must employ its services, I watch my food like a hawk, removing it at even the slightest whisp of steam. I have been traumatized. I can’t put anything in the microwave without expecting it to burst into flames, destroying my food and the container it happens to be in.

Today, however, I stuck a bowl into the microwave, pumped in the heating time, and just…walked away. You know what? Nothing happened. Well, something happened; my food got warmed up, obviously, but it didn’t get burned to a crisp, the house didn’t catch on fire, and my soul wasn’t writhing in anguish over the loss of some good grub.

It’s funny how so often, we allow a solitary bad experience to dominate our thoughts, changing the way we live forever. We live our lives in constant fear, cranking up our own anxiety, wondering if “that thing” is going to happen again. And a lot of times, it’s something stupid. I’m not trying to discount the experience. When you pull that putrid black ball of plastic out of the microwave, it turns your stomach. What’s stupid about it is we let those single moments, those exceptions to the rule, dictate our thoughts and our actions. THAT is just plain dumb.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to throw something in the microwave just for the hell of it; you may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.


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