Perfect
This day was going so perfectly. I got up at 10, despite having set the alarm for 9. And despite having had only five hours of craptastic sleep, I felt surprisingly awake. I worked out, and that felt good. I showered and groomed myself, and that felt good. I had a delicious panino sandwich for lunch, and a couple of the most perfect café au laits I’ve ever had in this city. Then I went to the Amish market, one of the most perfect little grocery stores, and bought all sorts of yummy food items, like preserves and prosciutto and grainy bread and ingredients for making cupcakes.
PERFECT, I tell you.
Then, I got home and sat down at my computer, and started listening to Andrew Bird, one of the perfectest musicians ever. And I began making a couple of CDs for my friends, full of the most perfectest music ever. And I’m sipping some tasty sparkling water, and my kitty cat decides to jump up in my lap and get all cuddly. And I think, Could this day be any more perfect? I may burst for its perfection.
And so there I was, sitting, listening to music, nuzzling with my cute little kitty, and the kitty was purr purr purring, so happy to be sitting in my lap and sharing in my most perfect of days, when all of a sudden, CLONK! SPSHHHHH.
Kitty’s happy tail bumped into my bottle of sparkling water. And sent sparkling water spilling ALL OVER my shiny little 12-inch Powerbook. Which at that moment was right in the middle of burning songs onto a CD. And the water spread so quickly, and seeped so efficiently into the gaps between all the keys, and into the tiny cracks around my touchpad mouse action, and all I could do was look at it and gasp and go, “OH, $@#!”
And then I had a heart attack and died.
