My upcoming move gives me a great reason to finish of all the condiments I’ve been meaning to use ever since I remembered they existed when I opened the refrigerator to clean it out. I don’t like anything going to waste, so I’ll try some fun new things, like putting mayonnaise on the outside of a grilled cheese sandwich as my aunt does. Come to think of it, if mayo works for that purpose, I don’t see why French dressing, ketchup, and red wine vinaigrette wouldn’t too. And this is perfect timing, because I signed up to bring sandwiches to the office potluck tomorrow.

Wow, look at all these takeout sauces. If I can find the scissors and cut open all seventy-three of these packets, I might almost have enough stale soy sauce for one stir fry serving. And this off-brand sriracha should really add some heat to it, given that I think it was recalled last year for giving people chemical burns.

Oh, I can’t just toss this vegan salad dressing that gave both me and my partner allergic reactions. Food allergies can reset every five years, and we’ve had it for at least that long—four years and eleven months longer than our veganism lasted. The day before moving seems as good a time as any to try it again and see if it still gives us hives on our genitals.

And what better time to finish this homemade barbeque sauce my friend Tim gave me three years ago. The licorice-onion-truffle flavor kind of threw me off at first, but now that I’m trying it again, it’s only making me mildly nauseous. And it probably wasn’t packaged in a way that will give me botulism. According to Instagram, Tim’s whole family has been hospitalized several times over the past few years. He’s never said why, but I assume it’s completely unrelated to his sterilization protocol.

Now, my partner says I need to get over my irrational attachment issues and just get rid of stuff we don’t need, like a disgusting salad dressing that ruined our sex life, before the move. But it would be crazy not to finish the mustard I might have chipped the top of the jar into without finding out for sure. Or to toss the congealed lavender olive oil I moved from my last apartment and haven’t used the whole time I’ve lived here.

In fact, if I can find and unpack the immersion blender and mix the mustard and olive oil together, I could make a whole new salad dressing that we probably won’t be allergic to and only might have glass shards in it. As long as it doesn’t slice up my esophagus and/or stomach lining, that dressing will be great on a salad of all of the random blackened produce I threw into the freezer loose over the years because it was starting to go bad, and then felt too guilty to throw away.

Plus, it will also be perfect for lubricating the broken trombone I drunkenly brought home from the sidewalk eight years ago. I’m going to learn how to play it! As soon as I learn how to repair it.

I’ll definitely do both of those things tonight, in between finishing packing, looking up recipes that use 0.15 ounces of several-year-old duck sauce, and frantically trying to find Tim’s number to ask if his barbeque sauce is supposed to cause this acute intestinal burning.