I got my baby bees back. Woot, and the like, but some of the day will be spent driving them to play with friends, which is what happens in now 16 minutes. Of course, The Genius had to squeak in a hug and a peek since I'm not allowed to close my bedroom door without everyone being drawn like moth to flame to whatever I'm doing. Won't be the case when I spend the rest of this blessed day doing dishes, cooking the meat that I let thaw and better cook before it goes bad (Sexay!), washing and folding laundry, scooping the cat box, vacuuming and wishing my IPod weren't merely functioning (yea- after last year's washing). I can charge it, but I can't change the content. I'll have to listen to that Dan Savage podcast again after this year and see which one was so immortalized that the universe thinks that should be the only one I get (no time to correct that mess). I think maybe I can listen to stuff from iTunes on my phone, too, but with only 10 minutes left. Later. Also, I'll check to see how posting here from my phone goes. Oh, the excitement. I love that this is the content of my day. MY DAY. Not work's. woot, etc., etc.
With 8 minutes left, the squeeze is on to make something really pithy happen. I started to write a poem yesterday, but realized after a few lines it was more like a country song. I've yet to write the Redneck Musical™ that a friend of mine and I who I so rarely see as to to make such collaboration nay impossible. Flo Joe's jes' workin' at Hooters waitin' fer she's big break, you know.
5 minutes. STOP PANTSING EACH OTHER. whatever the hell pantsing is. It's not allowed, because you're too loud when you do it.
4.
If I could put this feeling in a pill and pop it
You know I would.
That's what I do
Every time I turn to you.
See, there's the first stanza of my country song. It wouldn't be my first country song, since that's what happens when I rhyme poetry. Country songs emerge.
2 STOP IT. No one appreciates my 2 minutes like me, as should be the case, since I'm the one that arbitrarily created this diminishing timeline, here.
With one minute left, I'd like to thank Sexy Jesus for leaving me to fend for myself again. That's his best technique. Makes us stronger.
0 minutes. Who gives a shit about my countdown,but now it's all gone and done. I'm pretty sure I'll have a What Would Martha Do moment or two in my day today. There's that.
Now, at -1, and still counting, wtf am I doing, the universes will implode or something, but my repellant mojo that works inversely to this imaginary waffling timeline, seems to have decayed into something far more intersting going on outside my closed door.
Hey, what are you guys doing?
Plus, a phone call.
Toodles.
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3 comments:
I know you don't have time to fix it but I can't resist in asking why your iPod is stuck? No one should have to deal with that. If this helps - you can buy the iRIP software (Google it, I think it's about $40) and rip everything off of your iPod into iTunes and then start from scratch.
Not sure you can do it in 20 minutes but I look forward to another count down.
That closed door is like a magnet thing works here, too. But man, offer to find something for them to do and they scatter like cockroaches when the light comes on. All the sudden playing Call of Duty 4 takes on the significance of writing a master's thesis.
Will send you a second computer when I win the lottery.
GKL- I accidentally washed my iPod shuffle in the washer a year ago. I have seen others work after a time. In fact, Mr. Bee's same shuffle has been washed AND DRIED twice and still works perfectly, but mine did not. It has, however, begun to play. My computer still won't acknowledge that it's plugged in. I do think my daughter might want to use that software you're referring too, so thanks! And, for sayin.'
Lisa- If you win the lottery, you can buy a new computer for yourself and give me you current one with porn in tact. ;)
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