My rare and precious mental faculties are called into question when I unknowingly walk up the stairs with a loaf of bread in my hand. I turned around, 3/4 of the way up the stairs, realizing I had a fucking loaf of bread in my hands. I believe it’s safe to officially say my sanity is currently compromised.
Perhaps I left my brain in the Land of the Lost, Neverland, Wonderland or Narnia. Or maybe it was equally sectioned into quarters and I left a piece in each respective place. Would you believe that’s not the worst of it? The most dreadful fact concerning all of this is that I’m truthfully reciting all of this in my head in Kronk’s voice from The Emperor’s New Groove.
I do believe it’s time to retire.