This morning I read someone saying that something was as impossible as “uninstalling chess on a Mac,” which is apparently a thing.
But I was bleary-eyed when I was reading, so I first read it as impossible as “uninstalling cheese on a Mac.”
This morning I read someone saying that something was as impossible as “uninstalling chess on a Mac,” which is apparently a thing.
But I was bleary-eyed when I was reading, so I first read it as impossible as “uninstalling cheese on a Mac.”
I don’t want to oversimplify things, but it’s not a “hard life,” per se, that drains the sparkle from the eyes and etches a permanent frown on the face, it’s resentment that does that.
L’s Mother is long used to me teasingly saying that I’m going to outlive just about everyone I know, but the other day she countered with, “That’s not necessarily true you know. Longevity is in my genes, so I might outlive you.”
“It’s a matter of motivation,” I replied. “Assuming L. is an equally strong motivator for both of us (because he is), I have you to live for, while you only have me, thus I have the greater motivation to live.”
Oh, wait . . . right . . . *I* told them.
Nothing warms a writer’s soul (particularly a lapsed writer) like hearing, “I’m only four pages into your story and I already love your work!”
Today as I cast a baleful eye over my ballot for the upcoming election, I admit to the momentary temptation to not even bothering to vote this time.
Then I thought of all the idiots and monsters that have obtained office despite me voting against them, and I shuddered to think of the ones that might become elected if I didn’t vote at all!
I absolutely understand the pessimism about the current age, especially in those younger than me. I likewise understand why me saying, “It may not be as bad as you think,” is viewed with some disdain because *I* would have viewed that sentiment with disdain when I was younger too.
But here’s the thing . . .
If I’d been right in my thinking about how bad things were when I was younger, we’d all be dead now.
When I got a house, I never expected to have to clean up so many corpses. I mean, I’ve only had to do it five times or so, but it’s weird to me that I’ve had to do it even once.
I wish people would just respect the “No Trespassing” sign . . .
(I am absolutely kidding about this, but I do wish the ducks and iguanas and the like could pick a different property to die on.)
While some things are indeed an “acquired taste,” other things, particularly in the world of health food, are merely “not so bad once you get used to it.”
Today was one of “those” mornings for me, and nothing quite said that to L’s Mother like when I mumbled, “I’m going outside for a stumble to see if I wake up.”