Is Your Refrigerator Running?

Is your refrigerator running? Because mine sure is, and I couldn't be prouder of it. It wakes up every day before 5 A.M., and is so thoughtful that it tiptoes around the apartment, looking for its sneakers, waking me only for emergencies, like this morning when it whispered, "Hey, babe, did you put my shorts in the wash, or what?" After it slammed the front door, I realized that there was no way I was going to fall back asleep, so I went into the kitchen to get some orange juice. But, of course, I had to wait, because my refrigerator was running.


My refrigerator is running for breast cancer, which would have been a noble cause anyway, but is especially noble given that refrigerators do not have breasts. My refrigerator is just doing this out of the kindness of its heart. Which it also doesn't have.

My refrigerator ran the Brooklyn Half this past spring. I know this because it wears its "BROOKLYN HALF" T-shirt every day now. For instance, my refrigerator was wearing it yesterday, when it was sitting on the couch, watching TV. And when I asked my refrigerator if it could please pass the milk, it sort of just shot me a look, like, "Seriously? I just got back from running. Give me a break."

If your refrigerator starts running, you should definitely support it in any way that you can, even if it means lending it your credit card and then getting a seven-hundred-dollar charge (!!!) from Paragon Sports, on Broadway. All of this equipment, I've been told, is crucial to running.

When my refrigerator started running, I wholeheartedly encouraged it, and, if your refrigerator catches the running bug, you should too, although you may go entire weeks eating dry cereal, because it's really hard to open a refrigerator that's wearing a "BROOKLYN HALF" shirt.

My refrigerator has compared running to a higher calling that I could not possibly fathom. When it puts it like that, feeling peeved about not having access to my crisper seems petty.

My refrigerator likes to remind me that I haven't done anything to cure breast cancer, other than donate to my refrigerator's marathon fund-raising goal—which really is like the very least I can do, so my refrigerator does have a point.

Not only has running improved my refrigerator's whole outlook on life, it has made my refrigerator more health conscious overall. Now, when I open the freezer for some ice cream, it lets out a judgmental sigh, and I say, "You're right, refrigerator, I need to be more like you. Maybe I should go running with you tomorrow." To which my refrigerator replies, "You can't just start running. You don't even have the right shoes. How about I get you a Fitbit?" Then, a few weeks later, when I go to my refrigerator because I think that, at this point, my milk may have gone bad, it says, "Why don't you ever wear the Fitbit I bought you?" and I respond that it needs to be charged, and my refrigerator gets frustrated and says, "I'm going for a run!" And then slams the door.