Also I did nothing mayhem inducing and/or terrible and/or illegal in the past few years. Except that time that I stole an eraser from a store because it fell into my bag when I bumped a display and then I was too filled with shame to take it back so I never did. Oops. It's still sitting on my desk, unopened, and it makes me quiver in guilt everytime I look at it.

It's like my longstanding nightly routine. I sleep better when coated in a thick layer of guilt and condemnation of past sins.