I woke up this morning with a terrible headache.
I slowly stumbled out of my bedroom and in to my kitchen in a desperate attempt to make coffee when I started getting sick to my stomach, seeing double, breaking out in spots, and spontaneously growing hair in new and uncomfortable places. Unsure as to whether or not I was yet again afflicted by the mummy’s curse, (I don’t care what your travel agent tells you, never accept a “discount” trip to Egypt.) the black plague, some yet undiscovered tropical virus found only in the deepest depths of the Amazon, or a good old fashioned hoodoo hex, I decided to go about my day as if it were any other day.
As I filled my coffee maker’s carafe with water and poured out four generous tablespoons of Dunkin Donut’s finest I quickly scanned my body for strange bites of either vampiric or werewolfian origin. No dice- and this just wouldn’t do. How could I enjoy a cup of morning coffee without determining the very source of the pox upon me? Anyway, back to the original plan of not deviating from my normal plans which could possibly result in further planning I made my way down to the extensive bank of newspaper machines outside of my apartment. Once again, I found myself completely beaten to everything, through the dirty window of the Beacon machine I could only see one crap of newspaper left by the ravenous early-morning Starbucks zombies- the sports page.
I rose my fist in to the air, inhaled a mighty breath, looked to the sky, braced myself against the Daily Herald machine prepared to let out the loudest “WHY GOD, WHY?” the greater Naperville area had ever heard when an epiphany hit me like a first-edition Gameboy to the head. I slightly unclenched my first, extended my index finger, and exclaimed- “INTERNET!”
