It’s been seven days since I’ve had a cookie.

It was Tuesday before I had noticed that I had gone so long without precious sustenance. At first it seemed sort of funny, in a “boy, this is sort of funny” kind of way.

But as the days drag on, the Funny-Ha-Ha Levels have dropped far below the Surgeon-General’s recommended minimum daily dosage.

Now… damn. I’m cruising on vapours.

But, without quite realising why, I have made a decision. Hell. I think we can call this a vow.

I will not just go out and get a cookie.

No.

I must wait for the cookie to come to me.

I am now in the hands of Fate, in the loving embrace of Chance, swinging in the hammock of Karma.

Destiny and I are taking a road trip and I just spilled orange pop all over the map.

Kismet and I just broke out of jail and are now on the run through the bayous of Louisiana, handcuffed together and bickering with each other every step of the way.

Sweet Lady Fortune and I have been IMing each other for a while and have finally decided to meet up for coffee but when we get to the coffee shop there seems to be some sort of open mike night going on and when I suggest that maybe we should try the Starbucks down the street she pulls me up on the stage and starts improvising some sort of spoken word piece about the indigenous tribes of Papua New Guinea and giving me significant jump right in any time now, chief looks and I’m furiously writing lines down on a napkin trying to come up with words that rhyme with “Bougainville”.

[Pause.]

Yeeeeeah.

Some cookies better show up pretty damn soon.

[Taps foot nervously. Twitches.]

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