Nothing excited me more about my senior year of college than
this one truth: I will never, ever eat in the caf ever again.
Over summer, I dreamed about all the meals I would cook, all
the recipes I would try and all the dinners I would host. My diet would no longer
consist of salads every lunch and sandwiches every dinner. I would no longer be confined to a strict eating schedule. I could have breakfast at 10 a.m. and
dinner at 8 p.m. if I wanted.
Then classes started. And I realized the time it took to
plan meals, to purchase groceries and to actually cook. All of the sudden, this
no-caf life didn’t seem so glamorous.
