Category — livin’ clean

So, I bought a toaster oven. My budget wasn’t being very cooperative, but those awesome Target people put a decent one on sale for $25 this week, and I snatched that little bitch up.

Ya’ll, I have not had toast since Vegas. Seriously. My toaster met its violent and disgusting end (that I will not divulge here) while I was gone, and I was devastated. I love toast. Toast and eggs, peanut butter toast, hell, when I make a ham sandwich or a tunafish sandwich, or egg salad, I prefer toast. So you can imagine that this was a travesty of unmeasurable proportion, and ending the crisis by purchasing a toaster oven was akin to the end of a war or economic depression.

All I wanted in the whole world was brinner. Two eggs over medium with toast.

At some point in this adventure, I realized that I inadvertently threw my butter out with old leftovers. (which is probably why people don’t reuse their butter containers for leftovers, especially people who sometimes neglect their leftovers to the point that they will not even open the container to make a decision about cleaning or pitching it…)

I went to the store. For butter, and maybe some Nutella, and various breads to toast in my toaster oven.

Of course I found myself standing in the only open cashier lane (they had all the self checkouts closed, which should be illegal), behind a couple in their forties with approximately 42000000 tons of groceries.

As I watched the cashier ring up their order, horror washed over me.

Six apples. A bunch of bananas. One cantaloupe. One whole pineapple. Two steaks. Four loaves of honey wheat bread.

That, lovers, is a complete list of the fresh food in the cart.

The other 380000000 tons, the bulk of the $300 they spent was packaged food.

Frozen pizzas. Frozen enchiladas. Precooked pot roast. Frozen tv dinners- Salisbury steak. Two frozen lasagnas. A few cans of green beans, a few cans of corn. Boxes and cans- frozen, precooked, prepackaged, canned EVERYTHING. The only fresh meal that could be made from $300 worth of groceries were those steaks.

I’m no angel. I love Taco Bell. I eat Doritos. I buy the precooked chicken strips for my salads because protein is good for me, but the point of eating salad is not having to cook.

I try, though. I’ve switched to organic milk, because it tastes better and I swear I feel better for it. When I eat out, I support our local independent places, because the food and the service is better and it’s better for my community and usually better for me. I stay away from most boxes, mixes, pre-made and prepackaged food. Frozen pizza has a permanent home in my freezer, but I only have it about once a pay period. Sure, I buy canned veggies. IN FEBRUARY. You can’t fucking sneeze without hitting a produce stand or a tailgate market here, and hell, even the grocery store features fresh local produce during the growing season.

Here’s the sad part. I’m single. That makes it a little harder to plan meals, to cook meals without producing a lot of wasted leftovers, to find the right portions to buy so that I can use something up before it spoils while still having enough variety in my diet. This bitch has a hungry man to feed, to eat her dinners, to finish off the pan of mac and cheese before it grows a fur coat in the fridge, and she’s MICROWAVING HIS DINNER? FROZEN ENCHILADAS? HOW HARD IS IT TO COOK A FEW CHICKEN BREASTS, SHRED THEM, WRAP THEM IN TORTILLAS WITH REFRIED BEANS AND CHEESE AND BAKE THEM?

It just kind of amazed me that they live that way.

It also reminded me that I could have even better judgment about what kind of food I spend my money on, bring into my home and put into my body. Yes, it was that perfect combination of superiority and disgusted amazement that motivates me to claim even more superiority and disgusted amazement the next time. You know?