I’ve been unusually organized about my groceries this year. After 5 years of adult life eating the same thing for dinner after dinner after dinner each week, I finally grew tired of it. When I thought the monotony of my dinners were just a stop on the path to being married and cooking for two (or three, or four…) I was totally okay with eating the same thing each day. As long as I got my slice of take-out pizza on Friday, I was good to go. This year however, I finally grew sick of the pattern… I wanted to eat different things for dinner each night… and I wanted it not to break the bank. So, rallying my single-girl cooking skills, I embarked on a journey of freezing meals. For the past month, I’ve been cooking one big meal on Sunday, and freezing serving-sized portions in my freezer for consumption sometime later. I held off eating them for a few weeks so as to build up a store of frozen meals.
Well, this week, in the midst of the craziness of conferences, and the exhaustion of having been sick, I received a gift from Sunday. This morning, I took one of my containers of chili out of the freezer and stuck in in the refrigerator to defrost. Tonight, after four conferences and 11 hours at work, three minutes in the microwave gave me a healthy and hearty meal. As I was eating, the thought struck me: all those Sundays when I would rather have been splayed on the couch, had truly paid off in the form of nourishment. On a day when it would have been easier to grab a burrito from the take-out place down the street, I instead came home to a home-cooked meal and I felt fed in a way that allows me to go about the rest of my day with a bit more joy in my heart. There’s maybe not a big life-lesson to learned in this snippet here (except maybe to keep freezing meals), but I was grateful for the moment today. I needed to feel fed, I needed to feel loved, and I’m grateful that for a moment, the bowl of soup gave me just that.