When it comes to cooking I’m a late bloomer. If I lived by myself — no husband, no child — that blooming would likely never have happened. One of the things I’m laziest about is eating — not the act of, but the preparation. So lazy am I that even fast food is effort. I’m a grabber, and proximity is important. I will eat chips, plain tortillas, a cookie and call it done, fueled by just enough processed garbage to make my stomach stop growling.
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