So I sat at the hotel I work at one day, muching on a Christmas Star cookie. As I crunched on individual 'arm' of the star, a thought struck me. If cookies could talk for one day, this cookie would be screaming how sick and twisted I probably am to slowly torture him this way by eating each arm of his slowly and savoring how tasty he is......

Then I wondered why/how in the world the people hired someone like me to work at this hotel without first questioning my sanity.