Well in theory, my dinner tonight was noodles. In reality, I went to make the noodles and realized they had a funny smell. Like the dehydrated corn had gone bad or something. So I threw them out. I still had half a case of noodles left (it's my "rainy day" food for when I'm totally poor) but since the expiration date was September 2000, I was probably right to let it go.

I also cleaned out my refrigerator. I have this bizarre rationale about food, which is that I look at this unappetizing food that I've had sitting around for several years and I think, Someday, I may be desperate enough to eat this.

This is why I have a Nutri-Grain bar in my backpack that is squished down to the width of a piece of tinfoil. I always think, "Well, someday I might be stuck on BART for eight hours and I'll be hungry, and then I'll be thinking, Oh, why was I so stupid to get rid of that Nutri-Grain bar? Best hang onto it for now."

But I had to face the facts today-- my weensy kitchen area was overflowing with food that I had had for years, and my noodles were starting to smell weird. I had to do some serious triage.

I kept up a pep talk with myself.

Monique, you will never be desperate enough to eat that crusty mustard you bought six months ago. You can throw away the stale Grape Nuts at the bottom of the last box. It's okay. I'll let you buy a brand new box of Grape Nuts. No, you're not a horrible person. And the baby spinach you bought for your birds is obviously past its prime. No, that's not a raisin. That's the baby spinach.

You will never eat the rest of that fat-free yogurt. You meant to buy that lowfat yogurt you love so much. Instead you bought the nonfat yogurt that tastes like feet-- toss it. You will never eat the soy yogurt that you purchased during that brief moment of insanity when the concept of "soy yogurt" was intriguing rather than frightening. Remember that phase? The hummus?

You will never drink the generic cola you bought two years ago, or the new Diet Coke that tastes like someone squirted dishwasher detergent into it. Trust me, you will never open that gallon of nacho cheese, and even if you did, what the hell would you do with it? Mix it with fat-free yogurt? Oh, and you will never have PMS badly enough that you will eat year-old chocolate cupcake frosting straight from the can.

Make room for the stuff you really do eat: the good yogurt, the chocolate-banana bars, the milk, the Diet Coke, the beer. Take the rest of that stuff, fill up the trash bags, drop everything in the dumpster, and just let it all go.

(Except on second thought, hang onto that chocolate frosting. Remember last month, when you were digging through the glove compartment for M&Ms? Better safe than sorry.)

None.