I was actually sleeping pretty soundly this morning – for me, that is, which means “not very”, but still – when I was suddenly and abruptly brought back to consciousness. But not by the overly chipper voices of Katie, Matt & Al, or by my clock radio, which is, ironically, set on “stun”.

No, this morning I was greeted by what seemed to be the endtime. There was shaking, banging, scraping, and soforth, and I just lay there, not really knowing what to think (aside from, maybe, “here comes karma, and it’s pissed”). That is, until I heard a voice from over my head scream, “Where’s the fucking coffee already?!?!?!” And I realized that the world was not, in fact, ending – at least not today; rather, it was a bunch of loud workmen replacing the shingles on my apartment building roof, and they picked this morning at 7am to start on the area directly over my head.

I really hope they finish today, because you can only wake up to the end of the world so many days in a row before you lose your mind.