Stop talking for a second...
I must be going crazy.
Evidence #1: When I arrived home after work yesterday, my pick was exactly where it always is…on the bathroom counter. Huh?
Evidence #2: When I smelled the chicken before I was about to take it back…it did not smell. Well, actually, it smelled, but not the same funky smell the night before. Huh?
However, the voices in my head tell me I’m doing fine and that someone is reading this over my shoulder. Err… I gotta go.