May 18, 2012


Notes to Self

Self: Yes, I think it was rather great planning that as you trundled through the kitchen this morning on your way downstairs that you stopped for a moment, and put the kettle on first. This would give you a few minutes to brush your teeth and pee, stop and notice a load had to be switched to the dryer, keep going as you noticed that the litter boxes are named the wrong thing (there is far more than litter in there) and that as usual, nobody filled up the handsoap, so you did it.

Yes, Self, that was a nice multitasking moment. You can't begin the day without tea, and waiting even a second longer than you have to for the kettle to boil is a drag. With a little luck, the kettle would be well on its way by the time you'd tidied up the kitchen a little, fed the cats, and flicked on your computer.

Oh, Self, there you go again, getting sucked into some reading before you've even had your tea. Maggie has settled on your lap already, and JoJo is chasing something you really, really pray isn't a mouse in the living room. It must not be; Maggie is still on your lap, looking at JoJo likes she's an idiot. If that was a mouse, it would be swinging from Maggie's evil mouth by now. We all know that.

The first thing you should be looking up, Self, is how to replace the screen on your new phone. Yes, that phone that you've had 3 days, that you finally just figured out how to work yesterday. And one of the first things you noticed was that it wasn't charging properly. So, to keep an eye on it, you hooked it up to charge through your computer tower. Your kids taught you that; such wonderful boys. The problem of course, Self, was that as you were on the normal phone talking to Roz yesterday, you, as usual, went to put your feet up on the tower.

Self, cell phones charge with a cord. That cord is black, like your tower. Self, your big stupid feet got caught in that cord, and you watched in slow motion, like a horror movie or a antidepressant commercial, as the thing fell to earth. Well, actually that would have been better. Because in reality it fell to your stone floor. The crack bloomed across the screen. Your conversation with Rozzy didn't miss a beat, because sometimes this happens. The first thing Self was smart enough to do was to see if it would still work. Self doesn't mind damaged stuff; Self is used to it. It did still work! Oh, and it was fully charged, so that takes care of that.

Self: the reason you are sitting here wondering why the kettle hasn't started to whine yet, let alone boil, is because you didn't turn the burner on.

Dammit.

15 Comments:

Blogger DJW said...

I talk to myself too.
But I usually don't get answers.

May 18, 2012 9:11 AM  
Anonymous Roz said...

Yes, we call it multiple-tasking and we brag that we've mastered it like no other. But, in reality I find it gets harder and harder. Especially when I have to apologize because I didn't hear part of the conversation because I was "multiple-tasking". I've renamed it mono-tasking.

Sorry about your phone. Who knew?

May 18, 2012 9:27 AM  
Anonymous Roz said...

Stupid auto correct. Multi-tasking not multiple tasking.

May 18, 2012 9:29 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Same thing....it just got shortened so we could say it quicker and get more words out in the same amount of time.
Are males capable of the multi-task?

May 18, 2012 10:16 AM  
Anonymous Roz said...

no! my husband's idea of multi-tasking is to dance while he's stirring whatever on the stove.

Come to think of it, he's not a bad dancer...

Did you all see Lorraine's tango article in the Spectator? It's pretty wild.

May 18, 2012 10:26 AM  
Anonymous jmd said...

Yes, nice pics of Lorraine (or Old Swivel Hips, as I now call her.) And Mentor is pretty cute, too.

May 18, 2012 10:36 AM  
Anonymous buzzhwack said...

Old Swivel Hips? Oh, Oh, oh, someone would be dead and swinging from a branch if that word was used in my former GF's company.I knew a lady who was deeply offended if the word old was used in any way to describe her.I am not proud of the moment I left her. She flipped out one afternoon in Miraclemart and tossed heads of lettuce at a teenage girl who called her old. The rest of break up was ultra messy involving cell phone abuse and a bag of chicken wings dumped in my mailbox which were rotten when I got home. She was really nice until you used the old word. I never thought it would turn into a nightmare. Another gruesome memory brought to me via Lorraine. Twice in a week! You owe me one!

May 18, 2012 10:58 AM  
Anonymous Roz said...

I called Lorraine Twirly Girl and Twinkly and she didn't like either much. She's out driving today so why don't we gather new nick names for her to come home to! She'll love that.

May 18, 2012 11:18 AM  
Anonymous jmd said...

Trying to work "Last Tango in Paris" into the mix, but I got nuthin'....

May 18, 2012 11:26 AM  
Blogger Chris Brown (not the felon) said...

Old curmudgeon. I've used it before, and I'll use it again.

Oh by the way. You just got an iPhone a few months ago. What on earth are you doing with a new one? Can I have the iPhone? My Blackberry keeps going "PING!!!" and dying a horrible, powerless death. Even right after I charge it.

I'm done with RIM. I hate to say it because it was a great Canadian success story.

Like Nortel.

May 18, 2012 3:23 PM  
Anonymous Zena said...

Twirly Girl.

That's an apt name for someone who gave birth to the Tangly Boy.

I'm still chuckling about that. Waaaay too cute...

(Wow, Buzz - that's a relationship you're well rid of. I wonder how she'd react to one of her offspring poking fun (literally) at her 'wattle.' Thank goodness - for said offspring at least - I have a better sense of humour...)

May 18, 2012 3:45 PM  
Anonymous Zena said...

No kidding Chris. Why is it that our Canadian success stories always seem to end up face-first in the dust? Too much adolescent swagger?

"Look at us! We're big boys now! We get to play in the big sand box with the other big boys! Neener, neener, neener! Get outta the way - this is our sand box! Whoops - uh-oh..."

May 18, 2012 3:52 PM  
Anonymous Roz said...

Sounds like the sandbox suddenly became the litter box.

May 18, 2012 5:26 PM  
Blogger Lorraine said...

OLD SWIVEL HIPS????

May 18, 2012 5:27 PM  
Anonymous jmd said...

Sorry - how about Approaching Middle Age Swivel Hips? Be thankful your hips still swivel - mine are totally seized.

May 18, 2012 7:35 PM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home