I have a fatigue, an extreme tiredness: I cannot seem to call forth, from the deep well of my soul, the desire to painstakingly craft a weekly menu. Typically, I do these things on Saturday and then head to the store — along with the rest of Richmond (Carytown Kroger for life!) — on Sunday evening. Recently, on Saturdays I find myself either sleeping or drinking beer and then sleeping. I wake up on Sunday and imagine my surprise when nary a menu exists!
This is not good! Especially when your pregnant wife is happily eating tater tots every time you turn your back.
You can usually tell the level of my menuetic apathy by the level of side dish complexity.
Side Dish Complexity vs. Apathy*
Luckily, I save all my menus from previous weeks. This makes the process of culling recipes from your mind so much simpler in that you don’t; you cull them from a bunch of text files saved on your computer. This hardly leads to a week full of extravagantly new tastes and sensations, but it gets the job done with minimal work. And while your pregnant wife might yammer on about chicken making her want to barf you can rest assured that your foetus is getting the protein it needs to grow a toe or something.
* it took me about four times as long to make the chart as to write this entry.



