So, I stop the rental car, turn it off to get out, and I can’t get the key out of the ignition. It’s late at night, it’s beeping at me, and I can’t get the key out. I’m feeling all over the place for a button or a release lever or something, and I feel fairly rushed because I don’t know whether the beeping is going to culminate in a full blown car alarm or an explosion. I’m squeezing the key and trying to think of who to call for help…
Then I just pulled harder.
Signs of my ultimate demise increase at the same rate as my inability to read them.
A few years ago I was making flight plans (or driving) and navigating my way over, around, and through all manner of air space, city and town. Now I get lost walking through an airport.
I brought bottles to the 7-11 to return for the deposit.
The lady who works there said I couldn’t bring them in such a nice container (it was a box from my office). I’m concrete-sequential enough as it is, but I’d just spent 3 hours debugging a complex C++ algorithm and I was in the mode from which I would be least likely to figure out that it was a joke.
I guess that’s why it was on me.
We came home from church last Sunday morning. The garage entry door was open, as was the back door to the house. About a 1/4 inch of snow had accumulated in our entry way – and the heater was faithfully doing its best to heat the great outdoors.
Fortunately, there were no creature tracks in the snow.
“Why did you wake up in the night?”
“I want Mommy.”
“What did you want Mommy for?”
“I need a hug!”, said the two year old with sort of a “duh, what do you think?” tone of voice.
Hello, my name is John, and I drink green tea. Hot, cold, frapped – you name it.
Sometimes it tastes just like mowing the lawn smells.
At least is manlier than Chai.
My hair hasn’t been this short since the buzz cut was in style.
I look like a white version of Gunther, Curtis’ barber.
I hate that feeling in my stomach when I first wake up in the morning. It happens occasionally, but most frequently on on Monday mornings (after Sunday sermons) and once a month Tuesdays (after monthly board meetings).
I don’t recall ever experiencing “Silence Regret”, do you?
You haven’t suffered until you play a couple of games of Uno with a 10 year old boy and a 13 year old girl.
Phrases heard, in my own parato analysis order, are:
It’s your turn @@ 1 million times
It was a REVERSE – that’s why it’s NOT your turn!! 500 thousand times
What color? WHAT Color!?? 1000 times
Dad wins! zero times
I had to give a presentation in class today. I rushed all day to get ready (and accomplish other things) and apparently the pace got me stressed enough that finally at the time of the presentation I got uncharacteristically nervous and/or out of breath. I apologized to my audience a couple of times, but I just couldn’t get my breath back – which made it all worse.
After class, one of my classmates came up to me and thanked me for my presentation. He was especially grateful to see me strugglig so much, since he had previously had a higher impression of me and it was encouraging to him that he shouldn’t have put me on a pedestal.
Thanks, I think.
