Grudging It

I hold grudges. Usually, these grudges aren't over important things and they're almost always directed at inanimate objects, but I grudge nonetheless. Cancel my favorite TV show? I begin a grudge (Fox). Spoil too quickly? I begin a grudge (strawberries from Albertons, I try to split the grudge evenly between those two parties). Many years ago, I had another grudge against applesauce. I don't remember why now; I really need some index cards or something to track these things. I'd consume a lot of different stuff (astronaut ice cream, street vendor hot dogs from Mexico, vienna sausages), but applesauce never had the pleasure. It just felt right to avoid the stuff.

Let's fast forward to this morning. I'm late for work and we're out of my typical breakfast treat, a peanut butter granola bar. "What to eat? Oh look, there's something in the back of the closet that looks kind of fruity (I utter the same line when deciding what to wear each day). Holy cow, it comes in cups! This can't be terrible!" If you're catching the uber-subtle hints I'm laying, I picked up some applesauce. At that point, I didn't remember the grudge, I just remembered my growling belly.

I got carried away at work today and I forgot all about the applesauce. Around 4 PM, I felt my strength began to fade. I knew that if any of my enemies found me then, I'd be in deep doodoo. I needed some sustenance; I needed some applesauce. I walked to the office fridge and I dug my cup out. I was excited. I like applejuice and I like cold, mushy things, which seems to suggest that I'd like applesauce. I opened the lid, broke out my spoon, and took the first bite. At first taste bud contact, I remembered, "Oh yeah, I don't like applesauce. It tastes like cold mashed potatoes." Whether it tasted like cold mashed potatoes or not, I had the image in my mind and I couldn't stop thinking about it with each bite. I ate the whole thing, as an unpleasant lesson for me to remember my grudges.