A few days ago, I posted a picture of the interior of a fridge to my IG/FB stories with the caption, “My fridge.” It was not, in fact, dear readers, my fridge. It was what I pray was a joke from some influencer, but I was shocked by how many people who at least kind of know me who thought it might be mine. So, I have taken the liberty of outlining a few reasons why it was obviously not.

- Firstly, I am not a dolt who would store my pasta in the fridge. Although, I will admit that there was a brief phase after suffering from pantry moths that I did attempt to freeze or refrigerate as many dry goods as I could, and I also have a proud collection of these types of containers. BUT STILL. Secondly, a select few people know I do not like colored pasta. I once even told a Hoboken restaurant that I was allergic to colored pasta and was outraged when I found a single orange noodle in my dish. Me: “What if I was really allergic? This could have killed me!” My roommate, Beth: “But you’re not actually allergic, you psycho.”
- Again, not a dolt. Who stores their flowers in the fridge? (As my friend Patrick said, “Uhhhh orchids like humidity just sayin.”) Also, if you know me, you also know I have a black thumb, and I would never be able to keep an orchid alive, refrigerated or not.
- VOSS? Get outta here. If I *was* going to store bottled water in the fridge, which I wouldn’t because I have a water dispenser and #savetheearth and all, it would be Fiji.
- Where to start? A) I’m a dog person. B) I don’t have a cat. C) See #1 (not a dolt). Who puts framed or even unframed photos in their fridge?
- I strongly dislike peppers.
- Michelob Ultra? Thank you to Kate who said, “When I saw that I was like … Natasha seems way better than mich ultra.” Yes I am, Kate, yes I am.
- Notice the extra space in this fridge. I’ve shared what my real fridge looks like before, and you’d be challenged to be able to fit a single additional stick of string cheese in there. In fact, we regularly have incidents where someone opens the fridge and gets attacked by a rogue cold food as if it had just been waiting for its chance to escape its overcrowded prison cell of cheese products and leftovers.
- This cheese drawer is a disgrace. If I only had two kinds of cheese in my cheese drawer, they’d be Vermont Cremont and Cabot Seriously Sharp, not these impostors. Also, what is that in the back, a stapler?
- I got lazy with the numbering, but I could go on: No to the Oui (I only eat plain Greek yogurt and George eats Stonyfield yogurt sticks), I would never refrigerate single-serve apple sauces, and where are all the leftovers?
- I will allow the rosé.
The michelob ultra seems out of place even for this chick who owns this refrigerator. And I never for a minute thought it was your fridge, you and I are kindred fridge spirits and the only thing here that isn’t out of place is the rosé. And I’ll also allow the hummus.
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You know me too well. Good point on the hummus.
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