Whats a girl to do with her addiction with Avocado?
Oh, Avocado, my love! You’ve been there for me through thick and thin — from my morning smoothies to my late-night guacamole feasts (with chips, obviously). You’ve graced my toast, filled my salad bowls, and even made my hair so shiny I feel like a walking advertisement for a hair care brand. Yes, that's right — you're not just a food, you're a multi-purpose miracle in my life. You’re healthy, you’re versatile, and let’s face it, you’re just too dang good to quit.
But now? Now, my dear avocado, you’ve gone and changed. The price has surged, and it feels like the avocado cartel has taken over. Suddenly, you’re not just a humble fruit. No, you’ve become a political player, caught up in the tangle of tariffs and trade wars. Ahhhh, poor avocado! What happened to the good old days when I could throw you in anything without a second thought — when you didn’t feel like an indulgence but a necessary part of my balanced life?
Today, I’m left staring at the price tag, thinking, “Is it really worth it?” And what am I supposed to do when an avocado has become a luxury item? Is it now for the rich? Has it developed a class system, a VIP status I didn’t know about? Oh, how I’ve taken you for granted. And I’m not the only one. We all did. Remember the good old days when we all had avocado toast for breakfast, without batting an eyelash at the price? Now, it feels like I need a personal loan just to get a few ripe ones. And for what? To share with my kids? I’m practically cutting a tiny slice for each of us like we’re in some kind of avocado rationing situation.
I mean, seriously, I can barely justify putting one avocado on the table for the whole family. Forget about guacamole — that was once an entire bowl of goodness, but now it’s a squeeze of avocado on chips. Five people. One avocado. It’s like we're living in a dystopian world where even the simplest pleasures come with a hefty price tag. Is this what we’ve come to?
And then, let’s talk about my hair. How on earth am I supposed to do my monthly avocado hair treatment? Can I still afford to keep my locks looking luscious and shiny, or is that a thing of the past now? And as for the facial masks — I guess I’ll have to go back to using old-school cucumbers on my eyes because, frankly, that’s all my budget can handle. Ah, the vanity!
And now, the real kicker. The true question that keeps me up at night: What am I supposed to do about this addiction?
Can I just stop? Is it possible to break up with an avocado after years of a deeply satisfying relationship? How does one quit a fruit that has provided so much joy and health benefits? Can I start a support group for people like me — people who are mourning the loss of affordable avocado in their lives?
Or… do I take drastic measures? Do I start growing my own avocados? I mean, can I grow avocados in my backyard? Will they be the golden treasures of my home, the prized fruits of my labor? Because if that’s the case, I’m all in. Forget about a fancy vacation — I’m getting myself an avocado tree. I’ll nurture it with love, patience, and a lot of water. The day I harvest my first homegrown avocado? I’ll probably cry.
So, dear avocado, I guess what I’m saying is: I miss you. I miss you in all your creamy, green glory. But more than that, I miss the days when you were a simple pleasure, not a luxury good. I took you for granted, and now I’m paying the price — literally. But I’ll figure it out. I’ll find a way to keep you in my life. Because, after all, a world without avocado is a sad world indeed.
Now, I’m off to see if I can get my hands on a single avocado for a reasonable price. If you don’t hear from me again, I’ve probably started my backyard avocado farm and will be living out my days as a self-sufficient fruit farmer.
HELP!
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