Imagine you had to write an essay which is due the next day but you are simply not inspired.
Imagine your boyfriend just broke up with your or you lost your phone or your mom wants to drop by even if your apartment looks as if it has been crashed by a bunch of wasted teenagers.
What would you do? Start working on your essay? Clean up your room?
No, you would probably go to the kitchen, knee on the ground and open the fridge.
At least that's what I do when I see myself in any kind of hopeless situation that I am unable to cope with.
Interestingly enough, I barely ever actually take food out of the fridge. So I've been wondering: what makes it so desirable to open the door, stare at a random mix of yoghurt, eggs and milk which is slightly behind the date of expiry and starting to smell funny?
In the same childish naivety that the ancient greeks believed in the Delphic Sibyl I look for answers between the different shelves in my refrigerator. My cold friend functions as a priest, psychologist, service hotline. I confess, talk, ask questions.
He might not be the most talkative kind of person but I do appreciate the calming buzzing in the background, assuring me that he is listening carefully to what I have on my mind.
In the end I still have to write the essay or clean up my room but I do feel like I am not alone in this.
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