At the end of the week, I always have an odd assortment of food in my fridge on the verge of expiration. It usually makes me feel guilty. Terribly guilty. Like if I planned better, or something, then I wouldn't have extra cilantro struggling to stay alive in my crisper. And what is up with having an extra 1/2 loaf of delicious farmer's market bread left over? What am I in the zone? In addition to stale bread, veggies are frequent victims: oh my dear lovely shallots, don't feel neglected there, alone in my veggie bowl; it's not you, it's me.
Usually this situation is a clear indicator that I abandoned cooking the meals I originally planned for the week, and went out to eat more than I should have. Yeah, probably.