Planning, shopping, and eating

Food. I'm not so good with food. Of course I don't like to be without it, and I can cook just fine. And actually I don't mind cooking. But what I don't like, or can't seem to get around to is planning and shopping. The idea of thinking about meals in the future, writing down a list, buying the ingredients and then cooking it all is huge.

I can plan just about anyone under a table with big huge projects involving contractors and large budgets and timelines but can't seem to get around this food thing.

This is not new. It is a characteristic (flaw if you must) that I have had since I left to go to college. Tom was not like that. He was fine planning and shopping and implementing but there was a catch. He wanted me to participate. I did not want to participate.

I did not want to decide on meals, I REALLY hated going to the grocery store. Then getting home in time to cook, EVEN with the love of my life, was not how I wanted to spend my time.

This was an area of conflict. I did not complain when we went to the store. I would not go to the store. Or if I did I would only buy five things (there is this deal I have with the number five I can go into another time).

If one person will not go to the store and her lack of participation is a deal breaker well then no one is cooking.

This all came back to me last night, when just for the fun of it I looked in my pantry: 1 box of stale Cheerios and some granola. Oatmeal & pasta. Broken crackers, a can of beans, and cornbread mix. And trail mix. Oh and pasta sauce.

Well a conservative might just be wondering what I fed my husband, and a liberal may be wondering how I could waste so much money eating out. Somehow though Tom was fed and we did not eat out all that often. I can't really remember what we ate but five nights a week, around 5 or 6 pm Tom would call and say, "Hey babe what are we doing for dinner?" A conversation would ensue an somehow between Tom and I, take out or cereal, smoothies or soup, we would eat.

Not much has changed in my cooking/eating patterns. The funny thing is, almost everyday, just for a millisecond, around 6 or 7 pm, as fast as the blink of an eye, my brain asks, "Why hasn't Tom called about dinner already?"

My shoulders slump, I take a deep breath, and then I decide on my own, take out, cereal, smoothie, or soup? It is not nearly as much fun alone.