My Meal Prep Is Shredded Cheese Over the Sink at Midnight

Expectation: glass containers lined up like soldiers, color-coded macros, lemon water in a mason jar. Reality: fistfuls of shredded cheese eaten over the sink at midnight like a raccoon in a bathrobe. No plate. No table. Just you, the bag, and the cold fluorescent truth of 12:47 AM.

The quinoa sits in the pantry unopened, judging you silently — four months now. The containers are pristine, stacked, utterly empty: a monument to the person you briefly intended to be.

Here's to the midnight snackers, the cereal-for-dinner club, the cheese-fistful faithful. We're not fueling our bodies. We're surviving.