The Fulfillment Project Tackles the Refrigerator

I know you were probably expecting horseback riding pics today...and those will come.  However, I want to get back to my happiness cookbook, aka Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project.  In one of the early chapters of The Happiness Project Gretchen describes cleaning out her closets.  Her apartment is cluttered and tackling that clutter brings her a certain amount of happiness. 



It looks so tidy...until you open those white built-in cabinets.

 As I walked through my house I knew that clearing the surface clutter wasn't an option.  Mostly, because there is no surface clutter.  My husband hates clutter and so I've become a closet clutterer.  Out of sight, out of mind, right.  My house is well-equipped with LOTS of closets and every single one of them is full.  I tuck things away and years later discover the emergency flashlight in the basement bathroom vanity drawer or a ziplocked baggie of confetti in my overflow storage.  I considered devoting the weekend to just the living room cupboards but then I remembered my friend Rachel's refrigerator.

Rach's refrigerator is pristine.  It's a thing of beauty.  She freely admits that if she feels stressed out, all she needs to do is open her refrigerator door.  The labeled bins, everything in its proper place, it's the Rach equivalent to a day at the spa.

Note Rach's empty top shelf....for leftovers!

 Because she's a good friend, and finds her joy in organizing, she agreed to spend a few hours reorganizing my fridge (and when I say agreed, I actually mean jumped at the chance).  Here's what we started with at the Garth household. 

Luckily you can't see the slimy section hidden at the back.

 

And this!

I count 2 pickle jars in this picture alone.

What the pictures, thankfully, don't show is the build up of grime and the back row of forgotten items.  I am theoretically anti-food waste.  I make an effort to menu plan and use up all the food we buy.  However, often things don't go as planned.  We grab a quick pizza.  Someone invites us to dinner.  Vacations, soccer games and holidays, they all conspire to make sure the food I buy doesn't get eaten.  My way of coping with this is to ignore it.  I let the ignored food get pushed to the deep, dark regions of the fridge until they're unrecognizable and slimy.  Only when my organic tomatoes have turned to slush do I then feel free to toss them out, guilt free. 

Rachel sized my fridge up with a practiced eye.  "The first thing we're going to do is take everything out."  And so we did.  Everything!  We lined it up on my counter and she made me sort things into use groups.  If I used something every day it went into the often group.  Twice a week was seldom and less than once a week items went straight to the rarely used.  We discovered that I have four jars of pickles, three jars of dijon mustard and three containers of cream cheese.  There was no judgment about my jars of excess condiments, but when it came to the cream cheese she said, "You've got to promise me you'll stop buying cream cheese until you use these three packages."  I promised.  It was the least I could do for someone who gave up two hours of her Saturday to hang out with me and my slimy vegetables.  

Tomorrow we get into the nitty gritty of how we reclaimed my refrigerator.  I've got the after pictures and, even better, some amazing Rachel advice for how to avoid the slimy food syndrome.  It's a whole new way of conceptualizing refrigerator space.