bundt®

Today was absolutely outrageous. I won't bore you with all my whining details, but let me say again, it was outrageous. I tried to leave work with workout clothes in hand at 4:45, but never actually left the building until 5:45. Hit the interstate at precisely the worst moment and ended up sitting still just across the river, wondering what the hold-up was. As I sat and listened to JT crooning through the speakers, I glanced to the shoulder of the road, and saw a bundt® cake sitting there as if someone had gently placed it there for commute weary travelers like myself who'd appreciate a snack just about now. There it was, dripping with glazed icing. That would put a smile on the end of even the worst of days. The thought of working out after eating that bundt® cake on the interstate, though, didn't sit well on my stressed stomach, so I decided to leave it for the next weary commuter.
All the way to the gym, I tried to think of some clever way to blog an interstate bundt® cake, but the solution eluded me. There are just no clever bundt® blogs available. So instead, I amused myself with the recollection of the yard party scene in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," in which a bundt® is brought by Ian's mom and she can't make Toula's mother understand what it is.
Then I pretended that I was Brooks Robinson and that the white line on the side of the road was the third base line, and that I was making the hall of fame by nabbing that bundt® and throwing the runner out at first.
In the end, though, as traffic began to move, I just thought of the oddity of seeing a perfect cake sitting perfectly beside the interstate - that is strange.