The newest (albeit most sensible) trend in our household amid my quest for domestic perfection is sitting down with my husband on the weekend surrounded by cookbooks and foodie blogs to plan out our meals for the week. Then I make a list and we go grocery shopping for what we need to make said recipes, versus blindly heading down to the store and combing the aisles saying, “That frozen thing looks good. *plop into cart* Hey how about this? You’d eat this, right baby? *plop* We eat fruit out of cans, right? And we always need some sort of pasta!” *plop plop plop*
Novel concept. I know. I should write a book or something.
Then I write on a dry erase board on our fridge what our week looks like via dinner.
Monday: Turkey macaroni casserole
Tuesday: Lemon chicken piccata
Thursday: Shrimp couscous salad
Friday: Dinan in a pan
Even though the schedule is merely written in dry erase, my OCD suddenly turns the plastic white board to stone and the marker to engraving. For whatever reason, I can’t seem to let the schedule go. That’s the schedule. Why stray from it, especially if anxiety promises to rear it’s ugly head? No, thank you.
Last night I came home hoping to cry on my husband and then curl up into a ball-o-pity after making a big mistake earlier on in the day (accidentally stumbling across this dream-crushing website) but when I got home, my poor husband was asleep fighting illness.
I didn’t want to EAT anything (wah wah wah) let alone put the effort into cooking anything and my poor husband wasn’t up to it, either. But, as he usually does, he spoke love to me by dragging his sickly self out of bed, drawing me a hot bath complete with soothing oils, lighting candles, putting on one of my favorite records, and demanding that after my bath we go out for my favorite food: sushi.
Every inch of my body was in resistance. BUT THE SCHEDULE?!?!?! It’s not sushi night! It’s LEMON CHICKEN PICCATA NIGHT, DARN IT!!!!! How is the world going to continue to revolve if we stray from the SCHEDULE!?!?!
About fifteen minutes into soaking in the bath, I was putty in sushi night’s hands. The schedule could suck it. I’ll make lemon chicken piccata tonight and the world will continue turning.
Sometimes, you just gotta let go and let life.