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Last week I reached the pinnacle of laziness. For me anyway. I had $56 worth of Arby’s delivered to my door at 10:30 p.m. Sandwiches, curly fries, and that exquisite Jamocha shake.
I have lots of excuses to justify my behavior – I was hanging out with my people, Arby’s is kind of a complicated drive from my house, delivery drivers gotta earn a living, too – but the honest truth is, I was already in yoga pants and didn’t feel like putting on a bra. And I wanted a beef-n-cheddar something awful.
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