I apologize. It was me. I take full responsibility that you woke up this morning to find the universe has ended, a chain of events that began when I decided to get up at six a.m. to accomplish something productive rather than continuing to lie in bed, sleepless, fretting over the usual material. I’m afraid the laws of space and time simply could not accommodate such stupefyingly uncharacteristic behavior; the resulting unraveling began the moment my feet hit the floor, and by six fifteen all of the matter and antimatter and dark matter had exploded into its component molecules, which then got sucked into black holes. Which then exploded. And there was an earthquake AND LAVA, which every mother’s child knows is the ultimate disaster, like when the floor turns into lava and you have to get across the room by jumping from the coffee table to a pillow and stuff, which of course have turned into rocks. And there were some tarantulas.
How are you?
Well, look, back to me. It’s going to be a weird day. I found out my mother is in the hospital, so I have to look into that. My city has for some reason transformed into one of those video games where you drive race cars around and around, except I think all of the video games these days are about shooting people, which my city, finally ahead of the trends on something, turned into years ago. Goblin has an acupuncture appointment. I am exhausted. And now this whole end of the universe thing. I guess I’d better make my oatmeal and get started.