In search of eggs

They should deliver room service to apartments. I don’t mean Chinese take-out or anything. I mean real room service – Eggs Benedict and on a plate covered by a metal lid, freshly-squeezed orange juice and a latte. On a tray. In my bed. Delivered by a nice man in a white coat and bowtie. Is that really so much to ask?

I’m now faced with the fact that it’s 1pm, it’s raining outside and I’m starving. It looks like I’m going to have to get out of bed in search of eggs. I don’t think I have any in the fridge, which means I may even have to leave the house. And that brings up a whole nother set of obstacles, like putting on pants. When did life get so difficult?

Clearly, being unemployed is making me lazy. It's only been a week and already I'm sleeping till noon and using words like "nother." Somebody needs to hire me soon before I buy a Playstation and disappear from the civilized world entirley.