OFF TO A GREAT START: I walk out to my car this morning and...EGGED! It was friggin' egged last night! Meanwhile it's 6:30AM, and if I don't get my ass (in my car) onto the Edens I'm looking at an ungodly long commute. Fine. So I pilot the Eggmobile onto the highway and roll out to Northbrook, jammin' high-powered, pissed-off rap tunes all the way. I find a self-service car wash, feed a buck-fifty into the slot, and start scrubbin' like a madman. Damn egg is tough to get off. So I'm sudsin' and scrubbin' and I hear beepin'. Huh? I'm out of quarters, and the timer says I'm gonna be out of water pressure in 30 seconds. I utter a profanity, yes, then switch the dial from soap to water and run around the car like a moron, spraying water all over the vehicle and myself. I get most of the soap off, but I'm a bit wet and a lot pissed. I cruise over to Starbucks and order my standard double-tall soy latte, then head for the office. Still adrenalized from the morning's events, I swing the car in a fast, angry arc around the parking lot. Splash! My coffee leaps from the cupholder into my lap, the lid comes off, and I find myself sitting in a bath of hot liquid. My pants are soaked, front and back, and my crotch smells like Costa Rica. So far, so bad.