In which I learn to not step in a box of donuts and decide to invest in some long johns

For as busy as we were today in my little bakery, one would assume that we'd sell at least a couple dozen donuts. But no. Sylvie stuck around until 7 (two hours after she was supposed to go) and I didn't get done with the rosettes until 7:30. I needed to have the cleaning done by 6 if I wanted to be done by 9, but that obviosly didn't happen. I finished cleaning at 8:30. I went out to grab the bagels, and I saw and talked to Pastor Kent. That made me sad. I so wanted to talk to him more, but I couldn't . . . I finally got the donuts out of the case at like 9:15, and there probably more left than we had sold all day. It was sad. I had to put all the donuts in a box so I could throw them away. The box got ful, so I put my pink-clad foot in the box to squash the donuts down, and I realized what a mistake that was. Never step in a box full of donuts when you are wearing pink shoes. Blueberry bismarks get their revenge. The box was so heavy I couldn't lift it, so I grabbed the deli's cart and Ally happened to be in the back when I was trying to get it up into the compactor, so she helped me lift it. (Aw, teamwork!)

I decided to invest in some long johns. No, I don't mean the pasteries. At this time of night, I feel like if I ever see a donut again, I'm going to vomit. I'm freezing. I need some long johns . . .
~MK