That Moment...

TMW you keep saving the spider in your daughter's apartment by putting it outside (because spiders are good) and it keeps showing back up inside her room within 24 hours of being taken out.

 

TMW you -- while writing out that story involving your first characters ever -- you realize you've forgotten 50% of the characters that existed in that world and must now rebuild it all from scratch.

WHY DID I NOT KEEP THAT LIST I MADE WHEN I WAS 14!?

 

TMW you leave the store and discover that your green 4-door 1998 Honda Civic with peeling paint and an immaculate beige interior has somehow been parked next to two other green 4-door 1998 Honda Civics with peeling paint and immaculate beige interiors. You'd think I would know my own license plate number by now, but nope.

Third time was the charm.

 

TMW you are lying in bed, and from alpha state you start to hear a song so nice it brings you tears, and you push yourself to a more defined beta state to remember it, but it's impossible because it just keeps progressing and progressing. You can't stand this anymore! You jump out of bed in shear panic. You move in lightning speed but because you are still disoriented you stumble on every corner of every furniture in the room. Where are the lights? The guitar! God damn it, where's the guitAAAr? The song starts deleting itself from existence in your brain each millisecond that passes by and so you start singing it in la-la-la style (a mere delusion that you think you are capable of), all the while you are trying to find the bloody edge of the cable to plug in your guitar. Shit! The guitar is tuned in open D for some reason. Why, oh whyyy! You try to tune in standard but you fail miserably because your mind and your ears are unwilling to cooperate with your extra demand of keeping the dream melody that is playing in your head intact. You are starting to loose it. Where is the fucking tuner!

TMW you find the chords, you find the solo, the lead, everything, but it's so damn complicated, you have no idea what these chords are called or where you are playing the solo. Is it m7#5 or Maj6 or sus2 or maybe a progressive mix of all those... You look up for those chords and conclude that they are not existent. It makes no sense. You are wide awake now anyways so you open audacity and start recording a crappy sample, so you won't forget. You are hoping that tomorrow your song won't sound like "a bad idea" and that you didn't go through all of that for no reason.

 

TMW you have to explain to an excited English learner that, no, this is not what we mean when we say "the face of the cliff":

 

TMW you have to disappoint an English learner by explaining that no, this isn't what we mean when we say "the face of the cliff":



Good guess though.

 

I would've given them a B for effort and say, “Yes, these are faces on a cliff, but that's not what the phrase means.”

 

TMW you remember that the augmented reality which the www provides isn't worth a damn in comparison to who & what is actually calling you to attention.

TMW you realize that the real work you need to do is also looking to you for actualization.

TMW you understand that those who lie often do not believe in themselves.

 

TMW you find yourself in love with the story you're writing featuring your first ever characters created twelve years ago. TMW you love it even more when you put them in the same universe as their "alternate" counterparts. Heridon Copper, meet Kevin McKinley.

TMW you have the perfect ending in mind, as a sort of "passing the torch" from Heridon to Kevin.
"Stay here kid, we'll take care of the rest."

TMW you...just really love this story. Mishu, Helen, and Amos? Go over there. I don't want to write you all right now. I'm writing Heridon's story.
Mishu Jerni: <shrugs> "Fine. Whatever."
Amos Garnier: "Sure, sure. See you in ten more years, you-"
Helen Chert: "Knock it off, Amos. Come on. We can wait."

 

I'm glad I'm not the only one who eats meat like that

 

The moment I need to change my avatar ALREADY. This is not sad. It's funny. lol

 

Just roll the whole story up and assume that that's what impressed her, you manly barbarian you...

 

TMW you must try to remember the plot you once wrote for your original characters...

That was 12 years ago...

Let's see if I can remember.

 

TMW when the gov is closing the fiscal year and you're torn between the feelings of "Yay! No more projects for a bit! Mini vacation!" and "Fuck, no more projects for a bit. Must not spend money."

 

I laughed so hard when I read this. Thanks for posting it, it literally made my day.

 

Anytime.

 

That moment when Sainsbury's seem to have forgotten that ham and mushroom tagliatele is actually supposed to contain ham.

 

TMW you realize that you've accidentally garnered about 6,000 words in your fantasy due to your repeated writing of scenes and plopping them in a holding document on your PC.

 

TMW you just feel like wrapping yourself up in a blanket in a comfy chair next to a warm hearth and read some books.

Then you remember that you have neither a comfy armchair nor a hearth.

 

TMW you're playing Mafia III (set in 1968 Louisiana) and you find yourself more worried about Lincoln Clay (the black MC) getting pushed around and insulted by random white NPCS than being killed by the actual antagonists of the game. It's funny how games make you react differently to situations and scenarios. I mean:

Lincoln Clay vs. Everyone Trying To Kill Him
Me: “Let's kick their asses. C'mon!”

Lincoln Clay Walking Around, Not Fighting Anyone
Me: “Please don't be a dick to Clay, please don't be a dick to Clay, please don't be a dick to Clay...”

 

One of my primary reasons for ditching my iPad was that documents and files I created, on that very machine, were suddenly unavailable due to "iCloud updates". Nothing like walking into an auditorium with a hundred and fifty faces staring up at you only to say "Umm, let me see if I can get the wifi working."

Microsoft has been just as bad in the past, but I dearly love to hate Apple.