I’m trying not to blow my budget on Chicago restaurants these first few weeks I’m living here. Heading home through the dark and cold, those warm booths and starchy entrees call to me much more loudly than than the empty (yet immeasurably comfortable) apartment waiting for me at the end of the train line. It gently beckons.
It’s not that I don’t like to cook. I love to plan and prepare meals. Only, I’ve grown very accustomed to that as a responsibility, something two other people depend on for their evening meal. They’re not here yet, so it’s just me, and the feeling of responsibility to cook something tasty and healthy is much, much diminished.
So I cooked everything on Monday and have been eating leftovers all week. That totally works.
Coming home to food that you know is already prepared is much more inviting than coming home to ingredients you have yet to prepare and cook.
I wonder in what other ways this is true, that doing work ahead of time makes better decisions easier to make.