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Classically trained in the art of attention fast-forward
Despite my damn near traitorous political disagreements with our president (I’m sure it keeps him up a night), in many ways I am the consummate American. Like many of my freedom loving brothers and sisters living in the American dreamscape, I suffer from a short attention span. One week, I exercise with the zeal of Lance himself. The next? I’m no better than millions of meat and potato fat slobs living in this land that stretches from sea to shining sea. A month ago I really cared about how our back yard looked. Now? It’s not like all of that work got us a guest shot in Better Homes and Gardens, not to mention IT’S THE BACK YARD. Who’s going to see it but me anyway? Well let’s see. Survey says?!?
Cheryl.
Oh crap. The nesting mother strikes back. I’d better get back out there and do some watering.
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Reason #261 why I hate Microsoft and everything it stands for
In Word, I typed “its” – the contraction of “it is” not the possessive of “it.” In its infinite wisdom, Word “autocorrected” my word to “it’s” which apparently was correct. The contraction of “it is” has an apostrophe, the possessive version of “it” does not (or so says the English Grammar Rules According Bill’s Word – and thank goodness because I sure wouldn’t know). Anyway, I go on typing. Out of nowhere, I see a green squiggly line appear underneath my newly corrected “it’s.” This means Word had found a grammatical error – the one it just “autocorrected.”
,And there was a great gnashing of teeth as our hero’s expectations were met.
So why hasn’t a tech savvy pleb such as myself turned off the autocorrect feature of Word if I found it such a nuisance? Hey, what can I say? I have a lot of glass and I like to throw rocks. It may be a pain to clean up sometimes, but it’s just so much fun!
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A good sock goes down before it’s time
When was the last time you came home to find your sock drawer rearranged? This is the horror of a nesting mother.
“Cheryl, why does my sock drawer look different?”
“Because I was sick of seeing you walk around in socks with holes in them when you’ve got packages of unopened socks in your closet.”
I was really tired from a long day at the office, followed by the death watch at the allergist’s office, so no sarcastic witicisms were forthcoming. I just mourned the loss of some slightly flawed socks that were at the wrong place at the wrong time. If only I had put away my own laundry like I should have… Cheryl would have never done it for me… she would have never had the occasion to open that drawer… my little buddies would still be with me now… IT’S ALL MY FAULT!!!!!!
This is the cross I bear.