The sound I hate most working home on Friday, the cerebral cortex of the week if that old 10% brain myth is true, is the neighbor looking for her dog, who she has anthropomorphically named Gabriel. The first time it happened, I was convinced a curious toddler had scaled his safety gate, and was wandering the side streets trying to pick out the trench coated stranger who most closely resembled Clifford the Big Red Dog. And the increasing panic in her voice seemed far too maternally urgent for a Basenji, the African Barkless which in hindsight was such a poor choice of pet for both she and her home-bound neighbors.
All the best science fiction stories have an android that can be deactivated by simply pressing a button somewhere above the hairline on the backside of the head. For me, that button can be activated by making me wait for a telephone call. I am absolutely worthless today and in dire need of a tune up.
The post it notes on my screen bear the following important messages: “DO NOT LOSE THE PHONE” “WASH YOUR HANDS” “FLOSS BEFORE TAKING A NAP”
I made three girls cry yesterday. Not even close to my personal best.
4 comments:
Only three? It would seem that you're becoming less emotionally destructive in your old age. Or perhaps you just not trying hard enough. Either way, flossing is important.
This comment is a late one: You came to the right place, yes and you're welcome. As for your post, I chuckled a bit when your said "barkless"... like someone chuckling about my sucky luck. Be grateful for the barkless wonder, because the bitches who bark made insomnia that much harder to deal with.
This comment is a late one: You came to the right place, yes and you're welcome. As for your post, I chuckled a bit when your said "barkless"... like someone chuckling about my sucky luck. Be grateful for the barkless wonder, because the bitches who bark made insomnia that much harder to deal with.
You need a post-it to remind you to floss?? Pffffft... Amateur! I am reminded to floss each time one of the single-use packs falls out of my handbag (which is virtually everytime I open it), no post-it necessary.
Crap. I originally thought that somehow this would reflect positively on me. *sigh*
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