The Method to the Madness is Even Madder

 I am not normal. I've accepted this.  I veer toward the kooky side more often than is acceptable in polite company. And I think I know why. See I imagine that normal, well-balanced people have brains that work like this:

Their thoughts flow smoothly from one idea to the next in a logical pattern. Whereas my brain's wiring is more like this:

A tangled mess--the thought goes in and then swirls and contorts in all kinds of weird directions and exits lord only knows where.  There is no rhyme or reason. No logic. Just chaos.

Take today. I was driving home from the gym, and I noticed my hands were shaking. My initial inclination was to blame this on the obscene amount of push ups I was forced to do on my toes. But then I remembered that I was so busy fortifying my defenses against an ant invasion this morning that I didn't get around to eating much for breakfast. The combination of food and ants made me of course think of chocolate covered ants, because--hello-anytime an opportunity to think about chocolate presents itself, I take it.

From there, I remembered an article that I had read that said that chocolate milk is the perfect thing to drink after a workout due to its combination of protein and carbohydrates or something. I am a bit fuzzy on the details. That got me thinking that if chocolate milk was good, then a chocolate milkshake should be even better. Which would be how I found myself drenched in sweat going through the Wendy's drive thru ordering a Frosty. Being crazy isn't all bad.