Anger is supposedly fun. (Yes, it’s that guy again – my favourite Guardian journalist/columnist, it seems.) Anger for lunch? Not so much.
An open letter to the fridge terrorist at work whose thermal preferences meant that I had frozen carrots for lunch. Again.
Stop freezing my carrots! If you want to freeze your food, put it in the freezer on top of the fridge. That’s what it’s there for. It’s meant to be sub-zero. The fridge. Is. Not. I paid good money for my full bag of organic carrots that are now a full bag of inedible icy orange logs and will thaw to inedible mushy orange rubber (nothing to do with oranges). Still good for snowmen’s noses. But I am no snowman. I am angry.