I’ve been put out with Sarcastro all afternoon because he hasn’t answered my hard-hitting email, which read, in part, “Yes, where is my five figure income?” and “I think I smell like hamsters. Is that a problem?”
And just now, I discovered that I didn’t actually send the email.
I have two criteria for deciding if I’m really sick and not just a little under the weather:
1. Do I not give a shit about how much work I have to do?
Right now, no. I care about laying down.
2. Am I irrationally mad at someone for something way beyond their control?
Therefore, I am actually sick and need to just admit it to myself.
May we talk frankly about Arby’s for a second? Is there any more non-descript a fast food restaurant? Their food is bland. Their decor is bland. Even their employees, though sweet, are bland.
Ask anyone, "Do you want to go to Arby’s?" and that person will have to pause and ask him or herself "What the fuck does Arby’s even have? Is that the one with the roast beef?"
America, I went to Arby’s twice this weekend to eat their fucking Chicken Salad Wrap.
I ate it on Saturday and was overcome with a level of "Holy shit! Is this good!" that almost caused me to wreck my car. But, I thought, maybe I was just really hungry. So, I went back yesterday. I had it again. Was it a fluke?
No, that chicken salad wrap is still the best thing I’ve ever eaten at a fast food joint.
I’m having lunch with Smiley today and it was all I could do to not say, "Meet me at Arby’s!" so that I could eat another one.
Who knew? Who knew Arby’s could whoop up something so yummy?
I give it five out of five stars.