The Seamless app has been both our saving grace and our worst enemy since moving to Manhattan. In a city where going to a restaurant makes me lose my rent money, going to a grocery store makes me lose my patience, and cooking in a studio kitchen makes me lose my cool, an app that allows any food to be delivered to our doorstep at the press of a button makes me lose all self-control.

While the concept of Seamless is pure food heaven brilliance, this comida convenience is starting to seem less convenient and more detrimental. Do I really need access to a bagel sandwich at 11pm? Or pho that comes with an unsettling to-go container of raw beef? Or do I need the ability to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner without lifting more than my iPhone? It seamsmore than likely that I do not.

I recently had iced-coffee delivered. I pretended that the delivery boy was my personal assistant to make myself feel better about this slothfulness. And every Saturday I have some man down the street fry an egg and put it on a roll for me and then I have another man hop on his bike and deliver me said egg? That is a very high maintenance egg. What came first the laziness or the Seamless?

Delivery has made eating bad just too damn easy. If curiosity killed the cat, then delivery killed the diet. Sometimes there is even a fight about who will have to get up off the couch to actually retrieve the food from the door, and a new definition of laziness veers its ugly face (and its double chin). Has walking to the door and having to say ‘thank you’ even become too strenuous for me?

If I keep using Seamless I’m going to have to take out the seams on my clothing. I wonder if they deliver motivation.