There is one thing I always looked forward to every time I have been in hospital.
Sure everything had a sort of greyish tinge and tasted exactly the same whether it be roast beef or custard, but someone else did the cooking.
They brought it to me. And I either ate it or I didn’t.
And someone else did the fucking dishes.
Since I have been ‘mysteriously’ tired all the time and my body is all fuck this shit by 3pm and oh you really wanna test me bitch? by 5 and completely fucking psychotic by bedtime, the last thing I want to – or even CAN do – is prepare dinner.
Fuck, I can’t even make a decision on what to eat most of the time.
So I am usually ravenous by the time dinnertime rolls around, cause due to my inability to make a motherfucking decision on what to eat OMG I probably haven’t eaten a fucking thing all day.
Clearly this is doing WONDERS for my metabolism which has basically given up and is having a long nap.
In hospital you fill out this little card for a couple of days in advance, ticking the least offensive options, and then three times a day food is presented to you and NO DECISIONS HAVE TO BE MADE.
I kinda long for that.
The added benefit is there is no husband giving you the stink eye cause you are practically comatose on the couch by the time he gets home from work and there has been no DECISION MADE about the evening meal.
It is our number 2 Hot Topic. Culminating in resentful angry stares over Maccas burgers. Again.
Something needed to be done.
The takeaway outlets know our order by heart (probably).
I tried making meal plans and prepping food early in the tiny window my body gives me for coherent thought AND body movement, but 9 times out of 10 we are resorting to convenience foods cause I feel guilty for doing fuck all, and MPS is tired and pissed off.
So while I have managed to make a decision, the execution is waaaaaaay off.
I have become so stressed by the thought of dinner that it is all I can think about.
And because I am stressed about it, I cannot make a decision and round and round and round we go again and OH LOOK AT THAT, resentful burgers again.
Fuck this shit sideways with a rusty razor encrusted pineapple.
Mmmmm… pineapple. Maybe. Probably. Nah.
So, for my mental health as much as our physical health, tomorrow our order comes.
I ticked the least offensive options and in the morning a weeks worth of Lite n Easy breakfast, lunch and dinners will arrive.
Boo has chosen some dinners he will like, otherwise he will stick to his normal routine.
MPS and I will follow the rigid rules of the plan. Eating exactly what has been portioned out for us each day.
And I am fucking DELIRIOUSLY HAPPY ABOUT IT!
I cannot wait for the stress of planning, cooking and cleaning up from meals to be taken away.
To not wake up in the morning already worried about whether I will have the energy or the mental fucking capacity to organise a simple goddamn meal.
To have the DECISION already made. A WEEK in advance.
The preparation done, just heat that shit up.
Breakfast and lunch too. HUZZAH!
And if there is weight loss, that shit will be gravy.
Tasty tasty gravy.
Now to find a way to get our clothes cleaned and back in the wardrobes without my input and I will be SET!
P.S. Let me know if you want me to blog about the food and our experience with Lite n Easy. And if you have done it, what did you like/not like about it and is there anything I should avoid?