Getting Pummelo-ed

This mighty mutant yellow-green citrus is called a Pummelo, and it bought it at the store today because I couldn’t resist the name. It gives no clue to the interior, and the exterior only hints at distant relations to a grapefruit.

Turns out there’s a challenge inside too – once stripped of it’s rind, our mystery chartreuse hand-grenade is dressed in a cotton-candy pink layer of pectin, glued firmly to flesh I presume is grapefruit-like? It’s larger than a regulation softball. You could break a window with it. I spent 15 minutes trying to peel it’s clothes off (cue bawdy joke), got frustrated and just stuck a densely clothed slice in my mouth to see if the effort to peel the rest would be worth it.

It wasn’t. It was neither sweet nor bitter, an odd pale orangish-yellow color, and didn’t smell. No seeds though. I ate half of it, and put the other half away for Hub’s lunch – let’s see if he likes it. It’s no blood orange (I love those – they’re in season right now too!)

I got pummeled – I worked very hard on this fruit only to be disappointed, and I’m getting pummelo-ed in life on a few sides too. Trying to get past the armor plating and into the tasty sweet center seemed a fitting metaphor for my current situation – trying to break through a lot of tough things to get to *what I hope will be* the good stuff.

I’m not complaining – I put myself in this spot. Doing DICAS and taking 12 credits so I can finish my bachelors in May was not a great idea. I’ve got more homework than post-work hours, so it’s all triage at this point. Throw in some work stress and my gram’s death, and you’ve got a line up of stuff taking swings at me on the daily. At least when I submit DICAS this weekend I’ll be free of that – not that I’ll stop worrying about it, but that time can be invested elsewhere. Like eating citrus that’s easy to get into and tastes like something.