It's the kale.
The kale! Why do I keep buying the kale? I'm never going to eat it, I don't like it and regardless of whether I make a stab at kale chips (which tasted like emptiness and disappointment) or try blending it into a protein smoothie (and I know I say this from the extremely blessed position of someone who's never known hunger, but: I'd sooner eat gravel than try that again), I don't want the kale!
Yet it keeps ending up in my basket.
Perhaps it's because I spend too much time on the internet and end up reading all these swooning odes to kale. So healthful! So full of sulfurophane and carotenoids and omega-3! Whatever those are!
So, I give in to impulse and hastily made
lies vows to Improve My Diet, take the kale home and ashamedly throw it away two weeks later.
Apart from the terrible sin of wasting food — and I really do believe it's a sin — there's the waste of money. I despair to think of how much green I've thrown away. I don't think Colorado National Bank will allow me to deposit my good intentions into my savings account.
Thus, I've branched out during my three months of not spending money on unnecessary things into considering the groceries.
Specifically, the kale. And any kind of yogurt that's not the two kinds I eat. And raw cashews, with which I tell myself I'm going to make cashew milk (I'm not). And fat-free feta, which is terrible. And immoderate amounts of bananas.
I'm all for trying new things, I'm all for healthy eating, but good grief. I negate all the good I do shopping sales and with coupons by impulsively buying things that I know, in my heart of hearts, I'm never going to eat. Frozen edamame, for example.
Which leads me, however unrelatedly, to The Soda Issue. I am on and off the wagon with the diet soda. In fact, a correspondence:
Dear my dentist,
I might as well drink poison, I'm decalcifying my bones and teeth, I'm probably setting myself up for weight gain. I KNOW. I'm trying. It's just really hard because diet soda is delicious and makes me happy. But it's not necessary, since clean water comes reasonably priced — and fluoridated! — right out of my tap.
So, I've tried to use this three months of no unnecessary spending to kill my soda habit. It's worked... sporadically. I'll go a week without, then have this internal monologue at the grocery store: Do not put that soda in your basket, Rachel. Aargh, so naughty, take it out of the basket. OK, disobedient, save it for the weekend, then. Fine, just a little. Do not drink it all. Well, you drank it all. DO NOT buy more.
And so on. I know it's a waste of money. I'll try harder. Just like I'll try harder to be reasonable about what I'm spending on food — and I mean the food that I'll actually eat.
Sorry, kale. I'm sure somebody loves you.