F*** You, Paleo

I think that paleo is turning me into a crazy person.

My last two weekends have been almost entirely consumed by food prep.  Here’s the thing: I don’t have a lot of time to cook during the week (more on that, later).  So I have been taking the weekends to prepare meals for the week in advance, making good use of my newly acquired slow cooker.  But even so, it feels like I have spent almost every waking moment over the past two days in the kitchen.

Rather than recount my weekend step by step, let me just point out that between Friday evening and today, I’ve prepared the following foods.

  • Steaks
  • Zucchini noodles (twice)
  • Meat sauce
  • Enchilada Chicken Stew
  • Homemade lemon vinaigrette
  • Scrambled eggs (twice, once with bacon)
  • The rest of the bacon that I didn’t use up when I made the scambled eggs
  • A breakfast casserole
  • A pot roast (still in the slow cooker)

Before this challenge, my diet consisted almost entirely of lean cuisines, takeout, and spite.  Because at the end of the day, the last thing I want to do when I come home from work is pretty much anything.  And my job is unpredictable enough that I could easily wind up having to stay late on short notice.  So, the smart thing to do is to shift food prep to the weekend, right?  Except then, I am using my much needed weekend downtime to prepare, store, and clean up after meals for the entire week.

Most of you reading this are probably well-functioning adults who accept the fact that being an adult means less free time, and more time spent doing basic life maintenance tasks, like cleaning, or I don’t know, budgeting.  But I am currently in a position where I need to spend every precious, precious moment of free time I have on doing things that help me to relax, none of which happen to be basic life maintenance tasks (the reasons why are a topic for another day or, perhaps never, because I really don’t know you all that well, Mr. person-on-the-other-side-of-the-monitor).

Which brings me to one of my chief complaints about paleo: it takes time.  So much time.  I never thought I would spend more than a minute of my life contemplating which store brands of broth have sugar added – yet today I spent about 20.  It’s not just the prepping and the cooking and the cleaning (I must have done about half a dozen sink-fulls of dishes, never mind what got put in the dishwasher); you have to spend time figuring out whether any damn thing you put in your mouth is allowed, and that takes time, mental energy, and (in my case) an always on Internet connection.

I  have access to the Internet, a basic knowledge of cooking, and a wide array of kitchen gadgets.  And this is still turning into another part-time job.  How are folks who already have multiple jobs supposed to do something like this?  Or folks who don’t have easy access to grocery stores?  And that’s not even taking into account the fact that if you really do paleo “right,” it can be pretty expensive (that’s a topic for another post).

I’m sure that this is the first of many times this month I will be giving a hearty Fuck You to Paleo.  But for now, I need to sign off.  I have a motherfucking pot roast to carve.

F*** You, Paleo

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