What The Fridge Knew

Mundane tasks have become a thing of the past. Pencil and paper still live in my home, but I have fallen for the ease of smart home tech, and its push for a Wall-E society.

My hips sway to Masego playing through my speakers in the ceiling of my kitchen. The flute in my right hand halfway full of my third French 75. I hold myself in my moment alone, with my favorite song, while I cook in my zone, no notifications on my phone.

I lean into staying right in that feeling. My heart on my sleeve, lost in my beliefs. I turn around to my fridge to unpause the video of the new recipe I am trying. I remember when I had a dream about the takeover of smart homes. Years before all this technology bombarded us all. We fought but quickly lost. The need for doing everything quickly overpowered our need to stay relevant.

Here I am. One of the biggest adversaries of depending on technology, using my fridge to watch a YouTube video. I wanted to finish a series while I waited on my homemade pot pie to finish cooking.  I chuckle to myself and stop mid laugh when my grocery list pops up on the screen. It doesn’t usually do that. These things start to have a mind of their own.

                  The title is big and bold in purple:

                  You Need These

“Hmph, now why would you title my list that Sammie?” I chuckle.

I literally named my smart fridge, and I am talking to it. I shook my head. Maybe I need a friend. We are in an age where inanimate objects have become a friend in a world with billions of people. I pause at the first thing on my list.

1.        Kleenex – the good kind for your nose and eyes

“I don’t need that. I’m not sick. What can a few loose tears hurt? Silly thing.”

2.        Water – more than the French 75s

“Excuse me, Sammie? Are you watching me?”

3.        Stretch bands – keep moving your body

”Now, listen, you see these sweet moves? You obviously pay attention to me, so you know I can get down! That’s a bit much.”

I shook my head, sat down my now finished French 75 and checked on my pot pie. Nothing like comfort food when the soul needs comforting.

 Heat welcomed my already flush face; it is browning beautifully. Won’t be soon long before I kick my feet up and watch one of my sappy love stories. I close the oven and my attention goes back to Sammie.

4.        Call your mom

I roll my eyes. I just spoke to my mother, what, three weeks ago.

“Are you my therapist now? Since when does a fridge know what I need?”

5.        Call your best friend – she needs you too

My heart drops. I’ve been strategically not responding to her calls or texts. Life has been lifting and I could not burden her with anything further. My mess is my own to bear. I can handle heartache served up on a daily platter. This loneliness feels necessary.

“It is necessary Sammie!” I yell at Sammie as I yank open its door. I prepare another French 75. These are small flutes. Four of them are perfectly fine. No smart anything would tell me what I need; besides creating my grocery list. “Who, WHAT do you think you are?!”

Frustrated. I still kept reading. Two more items on the list.

6.        Human touch – I can’t give you a hug.

A tear falls as I sip my drink and nod.

“Touché, Sammie. Touché.” I hug myself knowing that it isn’t the same. I quickly swallow the rest of my drink.

diiiing

My pot pie is ready. I take it out and inhale the warmth of its combined flavors. I take a deep breath to adjust my eyes back to the fridge. To the last item on the list of things “I need.”

7.        Lean on Him and don’t run away from him

My heart aches from protecting myself. Thinking I could hide away inside of my home and escape what’s left. A shell of the things I desire. I run to not risk the openness relationships require. The hurt deep in my soul sent me to my knees. My smart fridge tells me what it sees and there is truth in what I need.