About an hour after dinner, I went to get my dog some food. As I went into the garage, a roach launched itself at me. I smashed it without thinking about it. Then I felt guilty for killing it, which led to thoughts of how I would feel if the shoe was on the other foot. But then that thought went away because I wasn’t wearing shoes at the time, and all I felt on my foot was sticky and gross.
And that, dear reader, is how my brain works.
