It’s me, that bag of spinach rotting in your fridge. I can tell that I am not the first bag of spinach to be slowly rotting away in this fridge, and I will definitely not be the last. To be honest with you, this is not the way I thought I would go. There’s an expiration date printed on my back, so I always knew I was meant to have a short life, but I’ve expired over a week ago and it feels like you’re just trying to play God at this point.
Being a bag of spinach, there were so many things I could become, so many things I could have accomplished being a big ol’ bag of leaves. Every day at the Whole Foods there were people eyeing me up and down, teasing me with off-handed comments like, “I’m going to make a salad tonight,” or, “Need some spinach for these protein shakes.” Day in and day out I’d lock eyes with random shoppers as they looked for some spinach—I’ll admit a few times I really thought I felt what it was like to be in love.
And then I met you. I will never forget that moment. At first glance I knew you were different, and I mean that in the worst way possible. Unlike all the other hotties eyeing me up and down in this produce section, you did not express the same kind of joy that a bag of spinach like me would have to offer. Instead, you just reluctantly grabbed me off my shelf and threw me in your cart. Maybe some other bags of spinach like to be thrown around like that, but I did not appreciate it. It hurt my feelings.
For weeks I’ve been sitting here, just rotting away. Some days I’m hopeful that you’ll change your mind about me and finally open me up and eat my insides, but that’s just foolish of me. I once was a sexy, beautiful bag of fresh lettuce—now I’m just a sad sack of wilted, smelly trash. If you were a normal person you would throw me out now that I’m past my prime, but I know you’re just going to ignore me until I become so disgusting that you can’t ignore my fluids leaking out of my bag. This isn’t the way I was planning to leave this world, but here I am, just another pawn in Fate’s sick and twisted game.
I don’t know you too well, and I don’t know what your intentions really were with abandoning me in the back of your refrigerator for over a month, but I wish it never turned out this way. With my last remaining breath, I would like to give you a small piece of advice. Before you pick up your next bag of spinach ask yourself, “Am I really going to eat this bag of spinach?” Based on the time we’ve spent together, the answer is going to be “no” every time. And that’s okay! Not everyone is cut out for this. By continuing to buy bags of spinach you’ll never actually use, you are not only lying to yourself, but now you have blood on your hands. My blood. The blood of so many other bags of spinach. Frankly, you are a monster and must be stopped.
Now please, just let’s get this over with. Throw me in the trash and end this miserable, sad existence of mine. I beg of you.