My Sunday grocery cart is shopping for a person who disappears by Thursday

On Sunday morning I shop with the optimism of someone who will definitely wash kale after a ten-hour Tuesday. I buy berries, herbs, salad greens and ingredients for three dinners. The cart looks colorful and responsible.

By Thursday, I am eating toast while the cilantro collapses in the produce drawer.

The issue is not that I dislike the food. I like a big salad when someone else has washed, dried, chopped and assembled it. At 7 p.m. after work, the gap between ingredients and dinner feels much larger than it did under the bright grocery-store lights. I order something easy, then feel guilty because food and money are both being wasted.

I have responded by making more ambitious lists. I save recipes, group items by aisle and promise to prep everything as soon as I get home. Occasionally I do, which keeps the fantasy alive. More often the grocery bags reach the kitchen at the exact moment my Sunday energy ends.

Last week I tried buying for my actual Tuesday instead of my ideal Sunday. I chose frozen vegetables, two easy proteins, fruit that could survive neglect and ingredients for one cooked meal. The cart looked less impressive. The refrigerator looked better on Friday.

I am trying to accept that convenience is not a failure of character. Prewashed greens or a simple prepared item may cost more per ounce but less than produce I throw away untouched. I also may need to shop twice in smaller amounts rather than expecting one trip to predict seven evenings.

What is your test for whether an ingredient belongs in the cart? Do you buy for the meals you hope to make, the meals you have made recently, or the worst version of a weekday?