My Sundays are not fun days. Sundays for me include meal planning. I hate meal planning more than any other adulting activity. I’d rather sit in meetings. Here’s pretty much how meal planning goes: Ok, this week I am going to eat healthy. I’m committed to [macros, Whole30, low glycemic index foods, vegan, etc] so let me start with researching said initiative. Oh shit, it’s already noon and I haven’t made my kids breakfast, the dog shat in the house again and I still don’t have a bra on. I must allow time to shop and meal prep so I have to get ready to go to the store. Have I mentioned yet how very vain I am? Shower, full make-up and an outfit that says I’m easy like Sunday morning, which is not easy at all.
On my way to and from the grocery store I can’t help but picture my future self and how shocked and awed everyone is by my weight loss, and how baggy all my clothing has become. Then I remember that we are in the age of mindfulness and I need to be present. And seriously, I need to stop daydreaming so much when I drive before I run another red light…
Back to meal planning. I must start at the perimeter of the store and buy all the vegetables and fruits. I must get all organic. I must get grass-fed, cage-free products. I must steer clear of dairy. Oh, hey there Cheese. You know I love you boo, but I just made this commitment this week and we cannot be together. Ok, now for round two of grocery shopping. Buy all the processed shit in the middle to feed all the other humans in my family.
Most of the time this is about where my meal prepping ends. I end up buying $200 or so worth of groceries and that lasts us ONE WEEK. About half of the vegetables get eaten, Cheese finds its way into my life and I eat more Goldfish than a dog living with two year olds. For a solid four days, I am good, I am on it and at the end of the day it’s better to eat well four days then none. I’ll keep building my tolerance.
I can’t be the only mom who sees the weekly grocery bill and counts down the weeks until her children no longer live with her, right? If I do succeed in not being exhausted by said grocery store trip, sometimes I will plan out the meals, wash and cut up the vegetables and daydream about future Skinny Hotmess Teacher. I will also plan out my workouts for the week.
Obviously I am not a virgin, but there are so many times that I feel very utterly fraudulent. I am reminded of that scene from Clueless when Tia gets upset with Cher and says “Why am I taking advice from you? You’re a virgin who can’t drive.” This tidbit of self loathing gets me to do a lot of stuff to push myself out of my comfort zone, or specifically out of my warm, cozy bed when it’s technically still nighttime and normal humans are sleeping.
Not only do I set my alarm stupid early, I also have a few people on hand to text me to make sure I get my ass into the gym. And if I turn that alarm off, the back up one allows me enough time to do a little yoga, or jog around my neighborhood. And if I turn that one off my chances of getting a workout in are nil. So seriously, self-loathing works for me and gets me the self-love I need, which is taking care of my physical self with good food 57% of the time and working out.