A Midnight Adventure for Milk

Lowkey, my sleep schedule is skibidi awful. At 3 AM, I decided to whip up mac and cheese, but guess what? No milk. Normal folks would accept defeat, but not me; I suited up in my pajama goon fit—oversized hoodie and mismatched Crocs—and embarked on a quest to the gas station. I got jump-scared by neighbor's lights, turned into a bush-dwelling cryptid, and faced a cashier with the life choices of a Sigma. I forgot my wallet, so I backed out slowly like a legend. Teenagers thought I was Mothman. Now, I am the Midnight Goblin, forever lurking in the shadows.