Jeff has been out of town all week and so I've been playing a little game. That I find this game so incredibly fascinating and so much fun gives you some small glimpse into my twisted mind. Essentially, I decided that once he left the house Monday morning, I was not allowed to go grocery shopping. I had to survive on whatever we already had in the house, for 4 days, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The two exceptions were Tuesday morning breakfast, which our office provides each week, and Tuesday night for dinner, when I'd already agreed to meet a friend for sushi.
Oh, and I decided this as I was driving back from taking him to the airport, so it's not like I'd stocked the fridge with food. In fact, you'd have sworn the cupboard was just about bare if you had peeked inside.
I'm almost at the end of the game and I'm pretty much batting a thousand. One night's dinner was bacon and eggs and a small green salad; another night I made rice and beans with hell-quenching amounts of hot sauce, and tonight I'm contemplating veggie burgers (frozen, not homemade) or Indian food.
To be honest, I thought my little game would provide nothing more than a bit of amusement, a dash of intellectual and creative stimulation, and, it must be said, an excellent way to coddle my own laziness.
But when I wrote to my little brother about the experiment, he said something that was so rooted in truth, on so many levels, that it stopped me in my tracks. And I've been thinking about it a lot ever since.
"It is funny how much food we have in our house when we say we have none."