So instead of taking a right to go home, I cranked up the CCR and continued straight to the nearest Kwik Trip. Waiting in line at the gas station, it felt like I had a hanger in my mouth my smile was so big. I mean here I was, on a random Tuesday, still in my pajamas, holding a dozen donuts to spontaneously give to a dozen strangers. That's some fun energy.

I had a lot on my mind (which usually gets me into trouble), so I decided to open the sunroof and turn up some Seger. As I look to my right, I pass a U-Haul Center, and quickly following was a Harley Davidson. In a split second, I thought, "Are you crazy?" And not 2 seconds later I responded to myself, "Yep." So I immediately hung a right and turned around.

As I reach for the knife, Michael Jackson starts pouring out of my speaker. Taking the first chop, the head of the carrot flies right into the garbage sitting next to the counter. I subtly grab my crotch and shout, “Owww!” Twenty minutes later, my hair is in a high pony, my sweatshirt is lifeless on the floor, and my neighbors are probably wondering why they didn’t get an invite to the party.