Sometimes I just get it in my head that I want something. Real bad. And it's hard to dissuade me from going after it. Last night, that thing was a donut. I had a Krispy Kreme coupon for a free Cookies and Cream donut which sounded amazing. I mean, really, they're thinking outside the box with that one. Whitteny made fun of the slight awe I expressed at the sight of it. Anyway, as most of you know, there were crazy storms last night--which made me happy, because I love storms. Everyone else, however, was pretty worried. Emily insisted on unplugging every appliance and Elise can be quoted as saying: "You realize we might have to sleep in the kitchen floor." They're both like my mom: worriers. I'm like my dad in that I'd just as soon stand out in the monsoon enjoying the sights and sounds. My sisters say it's because they live in reality while I live in Hayleeland: a magical place where everyone eats rainbows, poops butterflies, and I am thoroughly invincible. They're ridiculous. I obviously don't think I'm invincible. I just think I'm lucky enough to escape all injuries. haha. I told them to maybe consider that I was secretly one of the X-Men and I manufactured the storm for my own amusement--which, incidentally, they did not find amusing.
In any case, Whitteny and I went to dinner at Monterrey and then had a writing session. We both sat on my bed, listened to music, and contributed to the other's budding novel. We're going to be the next J.R.R. Tolkien-C.S. Lewis level duo. Just wait and see. Eventually everyone but us night owls went to bed. Around midnight, Whitteny made the comment that she wanted to go on a trip. By trip she really meant she wanted to get out of the apartment and drive around for a little bit. "Do you think it's safe?" she asked, in reference to the tempest outside. 'Probably not,' I thought, but "Yeah, definitely" is what I replied out loud. Where would we go? Jokingly, I mentioned that Krispy Kreme would still be open. She started to laugh, but then stopped abruptly. We looked at each other, a scheme hatching in each of our brains. Donuts sounded so delicious right at that moment. A little while later, we threw on clothes and shoes and set out on our adventure. By then, the storm had subsided, but its effects remained. We felt like we were going on safari when we crossed the small bridge in my apartment complex. It was submerged in water. You could have gone white water rafting on our little creek. But Freddy (Whitteny's Ford Escape) was up to the task. First hurdle crossed, we pressed on toward the goal: delicious pastry goodness.
There was trash all over the place, including a large amount of what appeared to be cotton stuffing. Whitteny conjectured that perhaps tornadoes hate teddy bears...and a few giant teddy bears met their end last night. There were whole roads that had practically become rivers. You couldn't see the asphalt under the muddy flood. We saw very few cars and by the by I might observe that it looked like a zombie apocalypse had taken place. It was quiet...too quiet. When we finally pulled up to Krispy Kreme, my heart swelled at the thought of a donutty midnight snack--for freesies with my awesome coupon. We peered at the bright menu for a moment from a distance before approaching. Then we sat. And nothing happened. The Krispy Kreme truck guy, who seemed to be unloading things into the back of the shop, walked up to our car to deliver grave news. Krispy Kreme, the 24-hour donut shop, was closed. They had lost power for three hours. It took us a moment to pull ourselves together after this tragedy. We preceded to drive down Kingston Pike, trying to figure out what to do. We had gotten it in our heads that we were going to have a delectable midnight snack. Our hearts were set on it. During our Plan B brainstorm, I suggested we visit a tavern that had a big neon OPEN sign and start a bar fight...Whitteny said that it was a stupid idea. I know. What is wrong with her?
We settled on going to the Kroger down the road from my apartment to peruse their pastry selection. By this time it was around 1am. Though they stay open all day and night, after a certain time Kroger turns off many of its lights. The store was dim, and there were barricades everywhere--ropes in front of checkout lines, whole aisles blocked off with boxes--and when we walked in to this sight I said: "It looks like they've closed down the store to hunt human beings in here." And that's exactly how we felt when walkways were barred. Whitteny said "I feel like I'm being corralled"--corralled to the slaughter house. But we made it out. Probably because of my invincibility luck. Anywho, their pastry selection was lackluster at best. We settled on frozen pie that came in single slices: I with Key Lime and her with Southern Pecan. We walked up to the register and stood there for a moment before realizing that we didn't want that pie anymore. We wanted fried chicken. We continued our giggle fits, returning the pie slices, and grabbed some chicken. We also got banana bread, Reese's eggs (a staple in our spring shopping trips), and a mini Key Lime Pie. Then we got to the register and Whitteny didn't have her debit card. She had to go out to the car while I stood there making awkward chit-chat with the cashier guy and trying to seem a little less high. I've never been stoned, but I imagine my behavior would be basically the same as it was last night in the grocery store: questing for food, indecisive and vacillating in my food choices, unable to go two seconds without laughing--yeah.
We finally made it back with our treasures, crossed the soggy bridge, and ran through the rain back to the sanctity of my apartment. We feasted. But not on donuts, because grocery donuts are usually gross. So my coupon lives to be redeemed another day. After the victuals, I promptly settled into my pre-bedtime nap. I have a habit of feeling too sleepy to get up to wash my face/brush my teeth/take my contacts out. If I reach that point, I typically take a 30 minute nap. I know. It's weird. Then I get up, do the whole bedtime routine, and actually go to sleep for the night. Whitteny mocks it, but I think it's a solid strategy. Much better than just avoiding the grooming all together. On an unrelated note, I had another dirty bathroom dream. This time it was flooding full of water, which is evidence of the real world seeping into Hayleeland. I'll end my ramble with a prosaic conclusion that sometimes you just need a quest, however small, however trivial, however entirely preposterous, to make your life seem well-lived.
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