Frozen

Suddenly, I realized that I’d been standing in the frozen foods aisle for nearly an hour.

It was just after nine o’clock. I was at D’Agostino on Tenth Avenue. My basket was half-full: two empire apples, four Axelrod yogurts, a bag of Happy Herbert Pretzals. But I hadn’t scored my dinner. I wanted pizza. But I’d had pizza on Saturday. And a hamburger on Sunday. And hadn’t run since Friday.

There I was, then, standing in front six shelves of Lean Cuisine like so many times before. Vegetarian lasagna, baked chicken, sesame stir fry, chicken primavera, creamy basic chicken, three cheese rigatoni, beef portabello, bow tie pasta with chicken, chicken a l’orange, shrimp and angel haor pasta…

I was introduced to Lean Cuisine by Runner’s World magazine. “Eat all you want,” they wrote. “They’re so low in fat and calories, you can have a zap a second if you’re still hungry.”

A few years on, now (and a few years into my thirties), I’ve tried ’em all.

And so there I was suddenly realizing that I’d been standing in the frozen foods aisle for nearly an hour.

Or so.

When I snapped to, I settled on grilled chicken and penne pasta with a caramel apple dessert, then grabbed a six pack of Harp, and a bottle of orange Gatorade.

Dinner isn’t as much fun as it used to be.