What's for Dinner? How about a nice dish of exasperation.
Not another post about meal planning. That's probably what you're saying to yourself, isn't it?
Well, personally I am fed up with the whole thing. (Ha, ha, ha.)
I feel like I am at the grocery store every other day! In reality, I have been trying to stick to a system; Sunday night I I make a rough meal plan and a shopping list, and try to get to the grocery store at the beginning of the week.
Today we needed orange juice, not a full shop. But I thought, if I am going in for orange juice I might as well shop, right? I consulted the meal plan and saw that after tonight I had nothing sketched out for dinner and not that much in the fridge (or not that much I wanted to cook or eat, since we are trying to cut down on red meat. That canceled out the tacos I could have thrown together.) Also there is the continued need to come up with good lunches for the kiddo. Also I am trying to watch my weight and avoid the Halloween leftover candy bag o' loot (please, send help), which means I need a lot of fat-free snacks around. Also, I should make a soup, right, because the kiddo has the sniffles? I looked at the rotating shopping list on the side of the fridge and it said "bread, onions."
I could have just gotten bread, onions and OJ, right? Well, $97 dollars later we got home. I pulled a huge muscle in my back trying to drag most of the bags up the stairs at once. See, I am too busy making meal plans and working to pay for said meals to make it to yoga class! Hence, back pain. Then I had to make soup.
I also had to take the kid shopping with me today too, since there was no school. It's a great educational experience for her and she loves to ride in the cart and we discuss all sorts of things. But I'd rather leave her at home and shop without her as much as possible (for food anyway). This is because I find it hard to focus in the supermarket. I have a theory that this is partly due to the fact that I just don't get to go shopping anymore for myself, so I never get to stand in front of, say, pretty shoes and wonder which ones to buy. That part of my brain now tries to get its thrills debating the merits of different toilet paper. Not. The. Same. Still, it slows me down as you could imagine. Poor brain.
Continued on the next page
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