Sunday meal prep is a lifestyle brand, not a realistic solution for my brain. Pixel does not care about meal prep either — she just wants the rotisserie chicken. I tried it six times. Each time, I spent four hours cooking on Sunday afternoon — chopping vegetables, cooking grains, portioning chicken into identical Tupperware containers. I filled my fridge with what looked like a meal prep influencer's Instagram post. By Tuesday, I was bored out of my mind. By Thursday, I was ordering Torchy's and feeling guilty. By Saturday, I was throwing away sad, slimy vegetables and half-eaten chicken that had been in the fridge too long. The waste was embarrassing. The guilt was worse. The system was broken, and I was the one breaking it.
The data was clear from my tracking: I need variety — can not eat the same thing more than twice in a row — and low friction — no more than 15 minutes of active cooking per meal. Batch cooking fails on both. It reduces variety by design, and it requires a big time commitment upfront that my ADHD-adjacent brain resents. I would rather spend 20 minutes a day than 4 hours on Sunday. The math does not work out in favor of batch cooking for someone like me. The Sunday time is a sunk cost that feels enormous in the moment. The daily time is a small annoyance that feels manageable. Behavioral economics 101, applied to my kitchen.
So I built a stupid simple algorithm. Not AI. Not machine learning. Not even a real app. Just a set of rules in a Google Sheet that spits out a weekly grocery list and meal plan based on three inputs: my calorie target, my macro preferences (high protein, moderate carb), and my tolerance for cooking (scale of 0 to 3, where 0 means microwave only and 3 means willing to use an oven and a cutting board). The beauty of it is that it removes decision fatigue. I do not have to decide what to eat. The spreadsheet decides. I just follow the list.
Here is the logic. You can steal it — I have put a template on bmitool.org. The inputs I set once for me: target calories 2,450 per day (maintenance at 170 pounds, moderate activity), protein target 130 grams per day (about 1.7 grams per kilogram of body weight), and cooking tolerance of 2 (can chop vegetables, use one pan, use oven — but no sous vide, no food processor, no multi-hour marinades). These inputs are personal. Your calorie target might be different. Your protein target might be lower. Your cooking tolerance might be 0, which means you rely entirely on pre-made meals. The algorithm adapts.
The rules I hard-coded into the spreadsheet: no more than 2 days of the same protein in a row (prevents boredom), at least one "lazy meal" (H-E-B pre-made) per day (reduces friction), breakfast must take under 5 minutes (overnight oats, Greek yogurt, protein shake), at least 3 different vegetable colors per day (based on a 2019 Nutrients paper linking dietary color variety to micronutrient adequacy), and no meal requiring more than 4 ingredients excluding salt, pepper, and oil. The 4-ingredient rule is the secret weapon. It keeps meals simple enough that I actually make them. Complexity is the enemy of consistency.
My algorithm's sample week is actual from last month — I ran it for four weeks straight. Monday breakfast was Greek yogurt with berries, lunch was a turkey wrap from H-E-B, dinner was rotisserie chicken with steamed broccoli from the freezer. Total protein 128 grams, calories 2,410, prep time 10 minutes. Tuesday was a protein shake with banana for breakfast, leftover chicken and broccoli for lunch, and ground turkey tacos with H-E-B tortillas for dinner. Protein 135 grams, calories 2,490, prep time 14 minutes. Wednesday was overnight oats for breakfast, H-E-B tuna salad kit with cucumber for lunch, and salmon from the freezer with asparagus for dinner. Protein 131 grams, calories 2,380, prep time 17 minutes. Thursday was scrambled eggs with toast and avocado for breakfast, leftover salmon and asparagus for lunch, and H-E-B Meal Simple meatloaf with green beans for dinner. Protein 126 grams, calories 2,450, prep time 13 minutes.
Friday was Greek yogurt with granola for breakfast, another turkey wrap for lunch, and a frozen burger patty with pre-made salad for dinner. Protein 140 grams, calories 2,520, prep time 13 minutes. Saturday was a protein shake with banana for breakfast, H-E-B sushi for lunch, and Torchy's for dinner because the algorithm allows one planned takeout meal per week. Sunday was leftover eggs, leftover burger with salad, and chicken breast with sweet potato for dinner. Protein 133 grams, calories 2,440, prep time 20 minutes. The week averages out to about 2,450 calories and 130 grams of protein per day. The prep time averages 14 minutes per day. That is sustainable.
The algorithm does not produce gourmet meals. It produces good enough meals that I will actually eat without ordering delivery. The key is the variety rule — no same-protein-two-days-in-a-row forced me to buy 4-5 different protein sources each week: chicken, turkey, fish, beef, eggs, protein powder. That prevents the meal-prep boredom spiral. The lazy-meal rule acknowledges reality: some days I do not want to cook at all. Instead of ordering 25 dollars of Torchy's, I spend 6 dollars on a Meal Simple tray and call it dinner. The planned takeout on Saturday means I do not feel deprived. I am not on a diet. I am on a system.
Did it work? I have been running this system for 8 weeks now. My adherence, defined as percent of days within 200 calories of my 2,450 target, went from 52% during the meal prep era to 81% in the algorithm era. My protein intake average went from 98 grams to 127 grams — almost hitting my 130-gram target. My body fat, measured by the Navy method every Monday, dropped from 18.9% to 17.2% while my weight stayed within 1 pound of 170. That is recomposition — gaining muscle, losing fat, stable scale weight. My BMI went from 26.9 to 26.5 — a small change, but the body fat difference is meaningful. The scale did not move much. My body changed anyway.
The algorithm is just a spreadsheet with conditional formatting and a few lookup tables. You do not need an app. Write down 10 meals you actually like — not should like, actually like, including the Torchy's run. Categorize them by protein source and prep time. Then randomize with a constraint: no repeat protein within 48 hours. That is it. That is the algorithm. I run it on Sunday morning, it generates a shopping list, I go to H-E-B for 20 minutes, and I am done. No more four-hour meal prep marathons. No more wasted vegetables. No more Thursday night guilt. No more feeling like a failure because you could not stick to a system designed for someone else's brain.
Meal prep culture made me feel like a failure. Turns out I just needed a different system — one designed for a human with a short attention span, a healthy respect for leftovers but only for exactly one day, and a deep appreciation for H-E-B's rotisserie chicken. If you want my Google Sheet template, it is on the blog. No email required. I hate that stuff too. Just download it, change the inputs to match your targets, and let the spreadsheet do the work. Your brain will thank you. Your fridge will thank you. And your dog will thank you because you will stop throwing away perfectly good chicken.
What system actually works for your brain, not the one Instagram says you should use?
I need variety and low friction. Eating the same meal more than twice causes boredom. Spending 4 hours on Sunday cooking creates upfront resentment. My algorithm generates variety with 15-minute daily prep instead.
Three inputs: calorie target, macro preferences, cooking tolerance (0-3 scale). Hard-coded rules: no repeat protein within 48 hours, one lazy meal daily, breakfast under 5 minutes, max 4 ingredients per meal.
Adherence jumped from 52% to 81%. Protein intake rose from 98g to 127g daily. Body fat dropped from 18.9% to 17.2% while weight stayed stable. That is recomposition — the scale barely moved but my body changed.
