Megan Thwap was annoyed.
She was an emotional wreck. She’d lost her job, was sick in bed with a cold, and the new medication her therapist had prescribed was – unbeknownst to her – a placebo, doing absolutely nothing to calm her down.
Unable to sleep, she clicked on the tv on her dresser for a little mindless channel surfing. But the cable was on the fritz and she was treated to 900 channels of static.
“Cable not working?” she said, to no one but herself. She grabbed her iPhone from the nightstand so she could tweet how crappy Rogers Cable was.
‘Hey @rogerscable suck much?’ she wrote, then hit tweet… and absolutely nothing happened, because her internet was out. “BAH! Internet!” she moaned. “Y U NO WORKING?”
After a good tantrum-thrash under the covers, she got up and went to the living-room. She was having dark thoughts again and looked at the balcony.
Whatever she did, she didn’t want to do that.
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She knew she had a fever. She needed a cold Perrier. To the fridge she went, only to find it had stopped working sometime during the night, and her Perrier was room temperature. “NOT WORKING? ET TU, FRIDGE!” she said, kicking the shit out of it.
The balcony?
No.
Jian Ghomeshi always made her feel better. She turned on the radio, but Kevin Sylvester was guest-hosting Q that morning. “EVEN JIAN GHOMESHI IS NOT WORKING TODAY!”
She ran to the balcony and threw herself off, plunging 12 stories to the sidewalk.
After which she stood up, completely unscathed, but grateful that the sidewalk wasn’t working today, either.