But that means that, since I'm being good and eating well (usually..) my afternoon fruit break can consist of fruit that normally is impractical for eating at the desk. Today, that means strawberry papaya.
Papaya. Fruit of frustration. For two reasons - first, it's very difficult to actually eat, as the little seeds in the middle don't want to come out neatly in a mass. So I go through this incredibly messy process of cutting it in half, then scooping out the seeds and rind, leaving two halves with a skin, and an empty sort of diamond-shaped hollow in the middle. Frustration the first comes from trying to actually get the FRUIT out, which is incredilbly messy, leaving juices everywhere and very little edible papaya, and that in tiny, slick, slippery shards.
Frustration the first comes when, eschewing tools, one decides to simply eat the papaya out of the halved shell. A few bites in and one's cheeks, lips, and chin are coated in dripping papaya juice. One can't quite place the sensation...then one looks down at the fruit....realizes how long it's been since...papaya....
Papaya. Fruit of frustration.
