Earlier this week, I was driving down the road with my family and we saw this chicken on the berm. Suddenly, I realized that it was about to cross the road. I had an opportunity to answer one of mankind’s biggest quandaries, like the time I planted those cameras in the forest to see what happens when a tree falls and nobody’s around to hear it.

“Why do you think that chicken is crossing the road?” I asked my wife, Robin. “I want to go back and see what he’s up to.”

“You’re going to hit that mailbox,” Robin said.

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Sometimes I sit down to write the introductions to these weekly wrap-ups, and I’ll try to think of some funny way to describe why you or I might not have seen this week’s posts.

This week, however, I don’t really have to try to find a reason, because I’ve been frantically launching my Question the Rules course. Launch ends tonight, however, and this is very good because sleep deprivation is causing me to see gnomes everywhere, and my wife gets more and more concerned each time I go chasing after one.

So if you missed any of these, I understand. Stupid gnomes.

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If you read Copyblogger and dream of striking out on your own, you need to know that independent business isn’t always good. Bad things do happen.

For instance, I’m writing this in a bookstore cafe. Two tables down from me, there’s a guy with his headphones on belting out “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon. (You’re an old person in the blogosphere if you know who Carly Simon is. Hint: She’s kind of like the Jonas Brothers, except she’s female and not like them in any way whatsoever.)

See, people think that being an entrepreneur means freedom and independence, but nobody stops to consider the perils of the Singing Cafe Guy.

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I blogcrastinated (see Tuesday’s post below) on writing this for a long time because I’ve been busy perfecting my Rock Band drumming. Nobody warns you about the time-suck danger that the Wii holds for the self-employed.

I only got down to it and wrote these summaries for you when, somewhere between some kick-butt drumming for The Donnas and Bikini Kill, my 5-year-old son came in and told me to turn the music down.

Man, as soon as I graduate, I am so out of here.

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If you’re like me, you may have missed a lot of this week’s Copyblogger content because you ate so much Easter chocolate last weekend that you:

• passed out in the center aisle at Wal-Mart
• were declared dead by Mort, the acting manager
• were incorrectly tagged at the morgue due to budget cuts
• were shipped off to a medical school as an indigent cadaver

and then woke up in front of visiting pre-med students who were just about to remove and dissect your kidney.

So this week’s review couldn’t possibly be more timely. You know, if you’re like me.

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