Every week, I go garage saling on Thursdays before work.  It’s the one morning that I don’t hit the snooze button multiple times and groan at the thought of crawling out of bed.  (I love mornings, but the act of separating myself from that comfy place of slumber is PAINFUL.)  Anyway, back to garage sales…

I have a route.  Up one same street every week, down  another same street every week.  I dart across lanes and make too fast turns, run my tires up onto curbs or park too far into the street.  I make U-turns and pitiful three point turns.  It’s all a part of the game.  And I have my eyes on the prizes set out in yards and garages and driveways.

Yes, many times I find treasures (at least they’re treasures to me).  But many times, I go the entire time without finding one blasted thing or precious little.  It annoys me.  I get irritated.  The only thing I can think of is the time I’m wasting, the money I could be making if I were at work and the gas I’m burning.  Grrr.  (I’m working on my attitude and trying to enjoy the experience of wasting time and gas.)

But the one constant thing that makes the day just a little better (ok, a lot better), whether or not I’ve found a car load is this little place on my garage sale route.

Oh. My.  Sweet, warm, gooey, light, I’m-going-to-die-right-here goodness.  I get two because they’re small and because one is free, and I can’t just take the free one without buying one, and I can’t buy one and turn down a perfectly perfect free one!  I bite into the deliciousness, and suddenly, those misplaced garage sale signs, bad directions, lousy junk and overpriced stuff fades into the background.

Do your best,
And leave the rest,
‘Twill all come right
Some day or night.


Yes, those doughnuts make it all right once again.