I’m one week into this FITin5 (weeks) challenge and am already about to lose my mind. I was prepared to part with my lunch dates to Chuy’s and the occasional cupcake from the (cupcake) ATM. But I was not prepared to say “C ‘ya later fruit” or “Sweet Potatoes, you’ve been fun”. The first week of food on this plan was repetitive, boring and bland. I was hopeful that the meal plan for week 2 would be more inspiring. Paige (the fitness Instagram model running this show) said that she would email the plans Sunday. PERFECT.
I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ll say it again. The craziest thing about me is about grocery shopping routine. I MUST go on Sunday between the hours of noon and 4. I think it’s a logical mentality. Once you shop (for me that includes going to Kroger and ALDI), unload, put away, begin to prepare dinner, start to meal prep for the week, clean up from dinner and finally sit down, you’ve invested at least a solid 4 hours. If all of this started at 6 PM, it would last until at least 10. I’m already in bed watching SVU by then. Which brings me back to the time frame 12-4.
Sunday rolled around and I refreshed my email as soon as I woke up, nothing. Jake, his sister, and I went to brunch, nothing. I went home and cleaned up a bit, nothing. Completed 3 loads of laundry, nothing. Time? 12:42. WHERE IS THIS NEW MEAL PLAN? I clean more, nothing. List 60 items on ebay, nothing. I watch two episodes of SVU, begin to pace. Time? 4:15. I head over to Jake’s and suggest that we take Murphy on a walk. 4 miles later, nothing. I AM DYING. The window has come and gone and I am beginning to feel like a psycho. Jake and I make dinner, surely she will send the meal plan when we are eating. I shovel a bite of spinach, refresh my email, and repeat this pattern until 7:30. I then begin to stalk all of her social media accounts to see if anyone has left a comment asking when meal plans will be sent out. I begin to ‘hush’ my inner crazy lady, and leave a comment on her Instagram page..
At 10:17, the plan arrives. I look over the plan (that is basically the same thing as the week before) and go to bed fuming. ALL DAY Monday I complain about the tardy meal plan and force Alexandra and Laura to listen about my time frame methods, reasons why I feel crazy, and other ridiculous rants. As soon as the clock hits 4:30 I dart to my car and immediately race to Aldi. I feel my blood pumping, my adrenaline racing, and am confident that I will return back to normal once I can check this task off my list. I grab my quarter from my bag and instantly feel a wave of relief once my little hands grab the handle on the cart.
Aldi greets me with a handmade sign, “Trucks didn’t come, sorry.” Uhm, hi, hello, what? I barrel through the first isle, collecting 3 packages of eggs as I round the corner. Ah ha- produce! There is one pack of asparagus, a little soggy- No. There are 3 bell peppers that have open wounds-no. As I feel my blood pressure rising, I get jabbed in the back with a firm pool noodle. 3 young boys begin to chase each other around the produce, I ignore them and move on. I get the last package of tomatoes, the 3rd to last bag of onions, and throw a sack of sweet potatoes in the cart. Mushrooms are plentiful, in the cart you go. Lemons are here, limes are not, apples are brown… whatever. I put 4 bags of spinach in my cart and move to the poultry. The one thing I can always count on is Aldi and their $1.49 per pound chicken. WRONG. Aldi was out of chicken. I am mad, but remember that I still have to go to Kroger.
I get to the register and witness a bizarre scene. An elderly women is trying to buy the rest of the eggs, as in about 30 cases. They are $.49, she wants to take them all. She does not understand there is a 6 carton limit. She gets immediately upset. The cashier starts yelling at her, “mmmm, no lady, you can’t take all dem eggs.” The customer replies, “Sometime you let me buy 20, some time you say, no buy. I am mad.” She shoves the cart in my direction and walks out of Aldi. I try to make light of the situation to the cashier asking, “What could she possibly do with all of those eggs?” and she ends up making a (really) politically incorrect statement about egg drop soup. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE. WHY AM I HERE? I HATE GROCERY SHOPPING ON MONDAY.
I leave Aldi head to Kroger. I will be in and out. I will buy chicken and leave immediately. I jaunt to the meat section like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep. The signage around the store is showcasing “$1.99 per pound chicken”, I clap softly to myself in an attempt to finish this event off strong. I get to the chicken case and it is completely EMPTY. There is not one chicken breast in sight. WHAT IS HAPPENING. I ask the butcher, he says it’s all gone. I mentally flick off every person/box of cereal that I pass as I leave the store. I get in my car and drive home in silence. Since I cannot drink a glass of wine, pick up a quick dinner on the way home, or use the mentality “treat yo-self”, I decide to meditate in the driveway. I actually closed my eyes, with my mediocre produce probably rotting already in the back, and took a deep breath in. I am not crazy. My method is not crazy. Anyone who CHOOSES to shop on Monday is crazy, that is fact.
Does anyone else freak out like this?