Chicken, Cravings, and Comfort: My Zaxby’s Ritual I’ve been eating at Zaxby’s every day for about four months now, both lunch and dinner. I always get the same thing a six-finger plate with double fries. I go big with a large sweet tea, one Zax sauce, and one Tongue Torch sauce. Seven days a week, no changes. My mom, Miranda, and John all get on to me for it, mostly because of how much it costs. I spend over two hundred dollars a week eating there. But honestly, I’m willing to spend that much because it’s become my comfort food. Right now, it’s the only thing I can eat without feeling physically sick. I’ve tried other foods, but nothing else sits right. I’ve also gotten used to the staff that work there. They’re always patient and kind, taking their time when I order and making things easier for me. They know that I’m autistic, and that small bit of understanding means more than most people realize. Visit the Quiet Fighter Shop If...

When you lose track of time doing something you love, people call you disorganized. Lazy. Careless. But here’s the truth: I’m autistic. I experience time blindness. When I dive into one of my special interests, I don’t just focus—I disappear into it. Hours slip by. I forget to eat. I forget to sleep. Sometimes, I even forget I exist. It’s not a lack of discipline. It’s a different experience of time. A Timer and a Compass My papa understood this before I had the words to explain it. He’d gently say, “Keep a timer nearby, kiddo.” Not as a rule or punishment, but like a little life hack. “Set it so you remember to take a break.” He didn’t want to stop my passion—he wanted to help me protect my body while letting my mind soar. That small kindness stuck with me. A timer became not just a reminder to eat or stretch—but a quiet message: You matter, too. The World Thinks I’m Disorganized—But They Don’t See the Whole Picture People see the missed meals, the forgotten texts, the way I disappear...