The Leftovers.

The other day,

I made this chicken & rice dish

for dinner,

something I'd made before

and remembered liking.

But it turned out mediocre this time.

So now I've got

two full tupperwares

of Leftovers

staring me in the face

when I open the fridge.

I want to gag

every time I think about

having to eat them.

What's worse,

they've taken on

human characteristics.

The Leftovers have become

that guy that wants to go out with you

who won't leave you alone.

I try not to look in that corner

when I open the fridge.

I know if the Leftovers see me,

they'll say,

"Rachel,

we want to have lunch with you this week.

When are you free?"

I keep making up excuses.

"Sorry, Leftovers,

my boss is taking me out for lunch today!

Maybe tomorrow."

I've stood up the Leftovers a few times,

leaving them confused in the break room fridge

while I snack on Reese's cups
all day at work.

"Sorry, Leftovers,

I wasn't hungry for lunch today!

Tomorrow for sure."

Worst of all,

I've avoided the Leftovers

to spend time with

Soft Pretzel,

someone I actually like.

"Whoops,

I'm running late.

I need a portable dinner.

Sorry, Leftovers,

it looks like a Soft Pretzel tonight."

This needs to end.

I think I'll ask the Leftovers

to meet me by the trashcan

so we can talk about our relationship.

I'll let you know how it goes.