The re-run of some stupid robot sitcom finally ends, and the cheesy saxophone music plays over a still frame while the credits scroll rapidly across the screen.

　　I nod my head sagely and sit back to watch some soothing, low-volume commercials that advertise me new and interesting brands of detergent and extremely classy canned coffee flavors.

　　Rain gently pelts my window. There`s been an onslaught of nonstop rain since the day of the Summer Festival, and I`ll never not be glad for it. I love when the weather`s not sweltering, but not shiver-inducing either.

　　Why am I up at four thirty in the morning watching television, you ask? Why`m I up, indeed. It`s not that I ended up a sleep deprived mess and stayed up all this time. On the contrary, I`m well-rested. I went to bed at like, eight at night from the sheer exhaustion of the past few weeks finally unloading on me. As soon as I got home from R8PR`s place, all those thoughts of Ascendants and Cybermancers and crazy plots sped out of my mind and I collapsed on my bed for one of the deepest, most satisfying sleeps I`ve ever had in my entire life.

　　I didn`t dream. Just absolute unconscious bliss for eight whole hours.

　　Now, I`m wide awake with nothing to do on a morning without work. I`ve eaten my corned beef sandwich for a very early, very yummy breakfast, and I`m vegging out watching the worst of the worst on TV.

　　Yeah.

　　This is the stuff.

　　Sitting back in my couch, relaxing, just having a great rest for the first time in ages.

　　I`d gotten pretty worried about myself back there. Questioning my heroism. Questioning if anything I did in the world made it a better place. Questioning my own sanity. But guess what? I`m a hero. I saved Atlanta in a huge way, and if I wasn`t there that wouldn`t have happened. Did it go perfectly? No! But you know what else didn`t go perfectly? The production of the movie Alien, and that ended up being one of the greatest movies of all-time.

　　Yes, I`m comparing myself to Alien.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

　　I deserve it, because even heroes deserve to rest their extremely tired bodies and minds sometimes. The reason Spider-Man`s always having trouble is because he can`t manage his personal life and hero life at the same time, after all. I have to make sure to avoid my comic book superhero brethren and take care of myself, because that way I`ll be better suited to kicking ass.

　　Heroes should be able to watch bad robot sitcom reruns too.

　　In fact, I know it`s barely sunrise by now, but I`m going to... Okay, you don`t have to actually read this part of the chapter, trust me, but I ruffle through a drawer and take out my lonely copy of "Glasses Glasses Glasses!"

　　I didn`t get a chance to really read it before. You know, for the articles. Articles of clothing, that is.

　　Now I can crack this thing open again and keep on relaxing in the early morning...

　　Wait a minute, this ad... This is for the "Steamy Machine." It goes on and on about magical AI technology that will allow you to live your "greatest fantasies" in the form of a self-writing story controlled by your own mood and preferences. It`s already been tested and released for a public beta testing period, and you can try it out yourself for free?!

　　Ugh, I have to get up from my comfy position, but it`s basically required. I go over to my desktop, type in the URL, and come up to the Steamy Machine`s very professional looking site. Aw, man, it`s all here!

　　It`s...

　　Oh. The free public beta is certainly free.

　　But... it`s on CD, and you have to pay for shipping and wait a week for it to arrive.

　　My quick dreams are shattered, or at least they are for a week since I`m definitely still sending away for it. Patience will just have to—

　　Oh, an e-mail from a random string of numbers in the address and title. That`s probably R8PR.

　　Hm. A long message about some rumors I might be interested in investigating. Some links to other websites that show off videos of people`s dreams of something, and a bunch of teens on Netnect doing their thing. This is extremely interesting, R8PR says, and you really should get into it before it becomes a big deal.

　　To that, I reply only two words:

　　"Fuck off."

　　I`m relaxing today, and that`s final.

　　Back to the couch, back to the magazine, and back to letting the dog days of summer wash away into an early autumn.

　　B強