Canned Post.

I usually eat pretty well. I’m no gourmet, but I can cook, and I like to use lots of fresh ingredients whenever I’m able.

This wasn’t always the case, though. When I was in college–and then when I was a college dropout sharing an apartment with one of my best friends–eating cheap was always the top goal. We both worked at Subway, which meant we could both stave off scurvy by getting our fresh fruits and veggies via our one free meal per shift. At home, though… Let’s just say I can do more with instant ramen than is probably necessary.

I hadn’t realized until tonight that all that cheapness sticks with a person. I had some unexpected expenses come up this week (car repairs), so I’m going to be eating cheap food at least until my next paycheck in two weeks. Keeping this in mind, I went to the grocery store after work.

As I stood in front of myriad cans of pasta, I found myself balking at the price of Chef Boyardee ravioli, which was nearly twice as much as the store brand canned ravioli. Without pausing, my brain chimed in, Well, you’re going to pay more for quality.

Before this thought could even finish its trek through my mind, I was laughing–out loud–holding onto my cart for support. I kept laughing even as I grabbed a couple cans of the premium canned ravioli–and genuinely felt like I was treating myself–and headed down the aisle to look for ramen noodles.

If a real depression actually hits, I’m totally good, people. I don’t know about you food snobs, but I am so making it to the next baby boom.