Being a single guy and cooking for yourself is tough — at least it is if you’re me. I tend to end up eating a whole bunch of the same thing by myself because of poor shopping habits, bad planning, unfortunate circumstances, or a combination of all the above.

Take, for example, asparagus. See, asparagus is kind of pricey when it’s out of season, so the Houseguest, being a savvy shopper, taught me to only buy it when it’s reasonably priced. Naturally, I never paid attention to her when I was gainfully employed. Because I’m a spendthrift by nature, I had no idea what a good price for out of season asparagus was. If I wanted asparagus, I bought asparagus. Once I decided to leave my job and take an extended break, I became a lot more attentive and frugal as my cash flow headed in an unpopular direction. Anyway, now when asparagus is out of season, I only buy it when it’s on sale, which it was the other day. Here’s the problem: the store only puts it on sale at the end of its shelf life. I knew that going in. However, I had made some other more delicious time-sensitive food purchases, which was bad planning on my part. So, I had to clear the deck before I could deal with the asparagus.

Man versus asparagus: It’s go time

Anyway, tonight was do or die. I had to cook the asparagus or risk it getting really rubbery, and no one likes rubbery asparagus. For me, it has got to be piping hot and have that nice snap to it. And I just don’t have the mindset to cook part of the bunch — it’s all or nothing. Don’t ask me why; I don’t know. Just accept me for who I am, and judge me when I’m not around like all my friends do.

Basically, what this means is I just ate a whole fuckload of asparagus. See that pan in the header photo? Yeah. All that. At least I’m not hungry anymore. And I probably won’t have to worry about scurvy anytime soon, though I am slightly concerned about what kind of a shock a massive intake of fiber might cause on my digestive system. I’m always freaking it out in some fashion due to my poor eating habits. I’d lulled it into complacency for the past couple of months by sort of eating like a normal human being (for me, that is). I probably wasn’t getting enough calories, but that’s another story. Anyway, last week’s surprise return to an overabundance of junk food had my insides feeling a little surly, so God only knows what this sudden about-face and massive fiber onslaught are going to bring on. I’d probably steer clear of me, just in case the effects of eating asparagus in large quantities doesn’t agree with me.

Why men need to be in relationships

I’m pretty sure this is one of the unspoken reasons why men get involved in relationships — to share food so it doesn’t spoil. Well, access to regular (in theory) sex is up there as a prime motivator as well as some other stuff, but being able to share meals with someone who has an inkling of what comprises a balanced meal is a pretty big plus.

For a while, the Houseguest was occasionally letting me mooch off her well-designed meals. I would sometimes reciprocate by grilling up some kind of sausage or a gourmet burger because those are hard to fuck up (though I have), but that arrangement has kind of slid by the wayside, so I’m back to solitary eating caveman style. And by that, I don’t mean a modern paleo diet. No, nothing as contrived and balanced as that. I’m talking a real paleo diet where there’s no meal planning involved. You go full hunter-gatherer (well, more gatherer, really). Basically, if you stumble upon something edible and it’s in front of you, whatever the hell it is, just eat it and stuff yourself until it’s gone because you don’t know when you’ll get any more of it.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m a ridiculous human being, but I’ve come to terms with it.